You Never See it Coming
by The Wakka Man
Summary: *What If?* epic starring everybody. Shifting POVs. When Beast Boy gets shot, it changes the Titans forever. Bet you've never heard that one before! COMPLETE!
1. Arc 1: Robin

_**Author's note: **Welcome to "You Never See it Coming", a Teen Titans "What If?" story. Originally published on . "What If" what? What if *****spoiler alert spoiler alert***** Beast Boy died *****end spoiler alert*****. I hope you didn't read that spoiler because I really want to surprise you with that. Each chapter will be from a different character's perspective. To coin a phrase, "LOL I suck at summarizing."_

_Titans, go!_

**ROBIN:**

It started out as a simple robbery.

As usual, Cyborg was the one who got us going.

"Guys!" he yelled. "I just picked up a police dispatch. Multiple armed robberies in the Bank District."

We all piled into the T-Car. Cy set off at his usual teeth-rattling speed.

"Some guys hit the Jump City Savings & Loans for a few hundred grand," he prepped us. "Their cohorts went for the First National at the same time."

"Just men with guns?" I asked.

"Yup."

"Sweet!" announced Beast Boy from the back. "I'm tired of fighting metahumans all the time." I heard him slapping one first into a palm. "I can't wait for a good old-fashioned smackdown!"

"What did the First National gang get away with?" Me again.

"Report's coming in right now." He put a hand to one metallic ear. "They didn't manage to take any money." His grip on the wheel tightened. "They shot up a teller."

Raven punctuated the sudden silence in the car. "Still ready for that old-fashioned smackdown, Beast Boy?"

"Bring it on," he shot back, but in a much more subdued tone of voice.

"They're all in a gray van traveling down Kane Street past East 109th, E108--" the T-Car swerved sharply--"E107, E106--_there they are_!"

It was them all right. If the dollar bills flying out the unlatched back door didn't give it away, the men leaning out of both side doors cradling submachine guns were.

I hate guns. Been that way for a while now.

Said men opened fire, even before we'd come within a range where they could harm us. Cyborg began evasive maneuvers anyway. So did the getaway driver--Cyborg couldn't hit him with his sonic cannon and drive wildly at the same time, but Starfire was not so impeded. Bullets and starbolts rained past each other. Eventually, the starbolts proved more effective.

_POW!_ That was the sound of the van's right rear tire exploding.

And so now here we are.

After the tire blew, the van fishtailed and came to a grinding halt. As we pull up alongside, four gunmen jump out and head for the nearest alley. Raven gets one with her mental powers, flipping him in the air and landing him on his head. Cyborg stops another with his sonic cannon. That's two down. The other two make it in. And not a one has discharged a single bullet since their best bet of escape came to a screeching stop.

_"Cowardly, superstitious lot,"_ runs through my mind.

"Starfire!" I order. "Get up top and make sure they can't exit somewhere else. Everybody, on your toes."

Now... we wait.

It is not a long wait.

The sound of exploding starbolts starts up, then gets rapidly closer. Backlit by flashes of green, the two perps come racing into view.

"Maneuver B-9, execute! Drop your weapons!"

One complies. His friend is more determined and opens fire. Unfortunately, he's up against the B-9 Formation.

Cyborg advances in the front, shielding his vulnerable face as bullets bounce off his Molybdenum armor. His attention thus diverted, the shooter is unprepared for being felled by a set of bird-bolas, shot by me from between Cyborg's legs. He is down, but not out, and keeps firing in a singleminded panic.

That's where Raven and Beast Boy enter play. BB morphs into something small--doubtlessly a bug--and Raven levitates him into a position over the shooter. Then she lets go, he morphs, and--well, an 800-pound gorilla dropping on top of you is enough to occupy anyone.

Victory is ours.

"OK, gang," I say. "Now all that's left is for us to pick up the--"

A sound! From the van!

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Of _course_ there were more than four robbers. They hit two banks. That's two primaries and two backups. So who drove the van?

Answer: the guy climbing out of the back.

He freezes in place. He also, however, draws a gun of his own.

Now it's our turn to freeze. Beast Boy on my right. The others just behind.

"You look like you've been havin' a bad day," Cyborg points out. "And unless you want it to get worse--" Beast Boy adds; I pick up the patter: "--You're going to drop that gun."

The man hesitates. Then he throws the gun down at my feet. I bend down to take it and look up.

He's pulled another gun.

There is a _BANG_.

A flash.

Smoke.

And

Beast

Boy

falls.

There is no time, there is no time left, and there are people yelling and screaming and making noises, and I am screaming too as I catch Beast Boy, and there is no time, no _time_, and I am screaming because I am screaming into the T-Communicator. "Wally! Stat! Now now _now!!_"

Because it is Beast Boy's only chance. There is no time.


	2. Arc 1: Kid Flash

**KID FLASH:**

I am chasing Dr. Light and his Lightmobile down the autobahn in Germany when the call comes over the T-Communicator: "Wally! Stat! Now now now!"

It is now 11:08 and 8 seconds, Pacific Standard Time.

Almost before Robin's message ends I am streaking westward, double-checking the GPS coordinates that place the originating call in Jump City. Let someone else deal with the good doctor. I am already at the French border, here and there and gone. A heartbeat, and the surface tension of the saltwater of the Atlantic Ocean is beneath my feet.

It is now 11:08 and 8.1 seconds, PST.

I am not running for my life.

"You're running for someone else's life." Those were the instructions Robin had drummed into my head as we'd developed and practiced Maneuver A-0, years ago. Timing my run, over increasingly greater distances and rougher terrain, with the most painstakingly accurate stopwatches known to man--specifically, one man, the one with the pointy-eared mask.

Conditioning my reflexes, my response time to that one call. Day in, day out for over a week.

It is now 11:08 and 8.2 seconds, PST.

He was no less hard on himself, either. I had to reach the call. He had to place it. Hour after hour, running, falling, halting suddenly in different positions, never sitting down because if you're that relaxed then it's too late to make the call. Grabbing at the deactivated T-Communicator, thumbing, pressing, getting the correct sequence for an Alpha-Prime Override, instead of finding my private channel. Once, I forgot a jacket at the practice field and came back for it in the dead of night, long after we'd wrapped up for the day. There he was, bathed in sweat, grabbing the communicator and hoarsely shouting the code words, over and over again.

Those stopwatches weren't the only things he'd picked up.

It is now 11:08 and 8.3 seconds, PST.

The American East Coast is long gone. Up ahead loom the Rocky Mountains.

Six months after that grueling workout, I got the call. I was at home in Keystone City, asleep in bed. The signal came from the Gobi Desert.

I was up, dressed, and out of the house in 0.0002 seconds. .6918 seconds later, I had reached the location at full speed. Problem was, there was nobody to save. It took the Titans 10 minutes to dig me out of that sand dune I braked into. The whole thing had been a test.

"When it's a matter of life and death," Robin had told the others, clapping me on the shoulder, "this is our last resort." They were duly impressed, if I may say so myself. On the way home, I made Robin promise there would be no more tests.

This had better not be a test.

It is now 11:08 and 8.4 seconds, PST.

Colorado, Utah and Nevada pass in the blink of an eye. Another glance at the GPS locator--Kane Street, between 78th and 79th--and I'm at the city limits.

Gone.

Dodging pedestrians. Cars. Dogs. Careful not to slip on dollar bills.

DeGama Avenue.

Kane.

108th East.

97th.

90.

85.

82.

80.

79.

Gray van. Men tied up. Money. Cops. Robin, Robin made the call, Robin has the victim. Where is Robin?

There is Robin. There is Robin and--

Blood.

Blood. My God.

Blood everywhere.

Blood and blood and--Beast Boy.

It is now 11:08 and 8.5 seconds, PST. This is not a test.

For a billionth of a second, I halt my momentum so as to not slice Beast Boy in half. Then I have him in my arms and he has a bullet hole in his upper left torso.

I once asked Beast Boy facetiously if his blood was green, too, like his skin. _Come over here and find out,_ he'd taunted, changing into a grizzly bear.

Now I know.

It is red. A deep, dark, _human_ red.

I'd thought, getting here, that I was running as fast as I can. That I was even beginning to slow down towards the end.

I was wrong.

I take Beast Boy to the closest hospital. JC Mercy. I've memorized the locations of the city's hospitals as part of my training.

Bursting into the lobby.

It is still, unless you want to get extremely technical about it, 11:08 and 8.5 seconds, PST.

"I need a doctor! Fast!"

Nobody moves. Then everybody moves. I use a trick I've learned from my uncle and "leak" some Speed Force energy to the nurses and doctors as they get BB onto a gurney and wheel him into the OR. Somehow, I grope my way over to a chair and sit down.

My work here is done--and now, the professionals take over.


	3. Arc 1: Raven

**RAVEN:**

The _BANG_ from the gun still echoes in my ears.

Beast Boy has been shot in the chest.

I tried to save him. I tried to knock the bullet away. But I missed. Too slow, too slow. It all happened so fast.

He fell. Robin caught him. He yelled something, and then a red-and-yellow streak took Beast Boy and--vanished.

Robin is still crouched down on the street, one hand clutching his T-Communicator. He's all splattered with blood, even his face, his arms are smeared with it, there's blood all over the street.

I realize that I am shaking.

The man with the gun unfreezes. _He's about to shoot again--_

SPZAKOOM!

Starfire reduces the gun to a pile of smoldering metal with an eyebeam. Cyborg, enraged, yelling, bowls the man over with a sonic burst, rushing at him, the man barely avoiding a haymaker to the head. The next punch lands in his gut, knocking him backwards into the van.

The man slumps to the ground, groaning. Cyborg advances and picks him up by the collar.

"You slimy bastard," he seethes, his voice rising. "You shot my friend. _You shot Beast Boy. I'M GONNA--_"

"Please, no, Cyborg!" Starfire alights next to him. "Although it is true that I too harbor great rage in my heart towards this man, we must not sink to his plane!"

_She means "level"_, I think mechanically.

Cyborg tenses, then drops him with a snarl. The man crawls pathetically towards Starfire. "B-bless y-you--"

He is halted by the green aura Starfire conjures around her outraised fist. "Do not dare to touch me," she spits, "per the chance I may forget my own advice."

"It's over, creep." Robin is now standing above him too. A pair of policemen step forward and snap handcuffs on his wrists--

_**RAGE.**_

Pure, hot, red rage, filling me, consuming me--

_"No!"_ I scream, flying at them, filled with power, power I have not felt for a long time. _"You don't deserve this brand of justice!"_

"Raven, what--"

He is mine. I have him, flying beyond the crowd, hands curled around his neck but not deigning to touch, gripping him with a power beyond his pitiful comprehension. I notice detachedly that some stray energy has ignited a nearby car's gas tank. Immaterial.

"What are you going to do to me?" he asks. His voice, suddenly and deathly calm, reminds me of something.

I repress the memory and dispense with extraneous threats and intimidations. I have no time for any distractions. "I am going to **eat your soul.**"

I watch with satisfaction as his bowels empty.

"Raven!"

Robin's voice. He sounds like he's having trouble. This may be due to the parts of my soul-self I have conjured. To keep the others busy. I do not wish for them to interfere.

Vengeance shall be swift, sweet and _mine_.

I lower my face toward his, black tendrils streaming out of orifices--

"Raven! _No!_"

Incredibly, Robin has managed to bypass the birds. I turn to avoid him--Cyborg grabs an arm. Robin grabs the other; Starfire, too, is here now, trying to pull the man out of the grip of my Dark Ether.

"You can't do this!"

"Please, Raven!"

"It's not what Beast Boy would want!"

"Don't _tell_ me," I scream, "what Beast Boy would want! Beast Boy is in no position to want _anything_. And it's because of _him_!"

"But you know it's so." Robin, grabbing my shoulder and shoving his face in front of mine. Distractions. Insignificant. A quick burst of energy, and all three go tumbling away. I lean in again.

Time to finish this.

And the man trembles, backlit by the blazing--

_Fire._

_Burning._

_I see it all in my mind's eye... A ten-storey townhouse, Haney Avenue, ritzy neighborhood. Now obscured by smoke and flames. A fire--accidental, it was later found--started in a fifth floor apartment and quickly engulfed the building, built by a contractor who cared more about profits than safety precautions._

_We were all sleeping soundly when the call came in. On the way there, Robin tried contacting Thunder and Lightning in the hopes of getting a rainshower whipped up, but--as had been the case for several months--there was no answer._

_It was, incidentally, the first time we had used our newly-invented AFAs (Anti-Fire Apparatus), and they worked well--up to a point. Components began to melt and break down in that awful inferno, and soon we were down to our last two backups. At that time, four of us were temporarily out of commission with light burns and smoke inhalation. It was Beast Boy who went in with a JCFD fireman to the last unchecked location in the building, an 8th-floor apartment._

_As it turned out, there was still somebody left to save--a five-year-old they found unconscious in his bed. Beast Boy had just picked him up when part of the ceiling fell in._

_A wall of flame and rubble now separated them: Beast Boy and the kid in the half of the bedroom that had a window, the firefighter in the half with the door--a door he could not use because of the fire that flamed up outside it. Beast Boy tried to get to him but had to turn back._

_I'd heard all this unfold over the two-way radio set I'd volunteered to man while the medics treated my arm. I got filled in on the salient details later, but right then I was hearing the guy yelling "Leave, just go for it, _jump!_" and then Beast Boy crashed through that window._

_"This is Lieutenant Duncan. Ground Control, Ground Control, does anybody read me?"_

_Beast Boy continued to fall. I picked up the mike._

_"Uh, this is Raven at, uh, Ground Control."_

_"Raven, right? Listen, Raven, I'm stuck up here on the eighth floor--" KER-RASH "--Ah, I, er, think that was part of the f-floor c-collapsing..."_

_Why wasn't Beast Boy morphing into a pteranodon or something?_

_"I'll send somebody over. Uh, ah, you're in the room Beast Boy was in, right?"_

_"Yes, but--"_

_CRASHH!_

_"Lt. Duncan? Lt. Duncan??" I asked frantically, glancing up to see Starfire swoop up and snag Beast Boy and the child he carried. "Come in, please!"_

_"Duncan here." I noticed something odd--his tone of voice had changed. "Raven, a beam just fell on my legs. I can't move. I think both legs are broken."_

_"Oh, no! Robin, somebody! There's a man on the eighth--"_

_"Raven, listen. It's too late. There's fire everywhere, you'd only be risking yourselves." He sounded oddly calm, his voice perfectly level. I, in contrast, was going nuts._

_"But--!"_

_"Stand down! That's an order. Tell Jenny and the kids goodbye for me, that I love them and I'm sorry I couldn't--didn't--spend more time with them."_

_"Mm-hm." I can feel tears coursing down my cheeks._

_"Khhh, kah--ungh. Raven, you still there?"_

_"Y-yeah."_

_"You got a name, Raven?"_

_"Well--well, er, I, uh, always felt partial to 'Rachel'. You p-promise not to tell anyone?" I think I'm becoming hysterical._

_"Promise." I can even sense a trace of levity in his voice. Doesn't he know he's about to die?! "My name's Robert. Bob. My kids are... Shawn and Naomi. But... you know what's funny?"_

_"What?"_

_"I... always kinda felt... partial... to 'Rachel'... too..."_

_"Bob?" I jiggle the radio futilely. "Bob? Lt. Duncan?"_

_Silence._

Much later, the fire went down enough for them to retrieve the bodies of Lt. Duncan and the other victims--ten in all. An autopsy showed heavy internal bleeding; he was definitely unconscious, and probably dead, by the time the flames reached him.

His voice was, indeed, the voice of a man who knew he was about to die. That was what the shooter sounded like. That's what triggered the memory.

Other memories come flooding in. Growing up on Azarath... coming to Earth... joining the Titans... attacked by Atlas... Terra... chasing the stolen T-Car with Cyborg... Robin betraying us, first as Red X, then as Slade's apprentice... becoming Trigon's portal... visiting my mother.

When I joined the Teen Titans, I did so not just in an attempt to counterbalance the evil within me, but out of an innate desire to do the right thing... to do good.

If I do this, there's no turning back.

Do I really want to do this?

I ask myself that question. And every fiber of my being screams _YES!_

I let go of the man anyway. He bounces once on the asphalt, then lies still.

Not because it's not "what Beast Boy would have wanted." Because, damn it all, it's the right thing.


	4. Arc 1: Cyborg

**CYBORG:**

We all breathe a sigh of relief as Raven releases the shooter and those freaky little four-eyed birds get sucked back to--wherever they came from. As the two policemen advance warily to lead away the shooter once more, I turn to Robin. "Robin, where'd BB go?" A memory flares up. "That--that was Kid Flash, right? Maneuver A... zero?"

"Yeah. He must have taken him to JC Mercy Hospital, that's the closest--" His T-Communicator chirps. "Robin here."

"Robin?" The voice is British--Argent. "What happened? I'm in Sao Paolo on a mission with Pantha, and we heard you on both our communicators. You broadcast a message on Alpha-Prime Override. Who's Wally?"

"Privileged information. What I can tell you is that Beast Boy's been shot." Her gasp is audible over the line. "He's been taken to a hospital."

Another voice breaks in, rougher, Spanish-accented. Pantha. "Please tell us you caught the one who did it!"

"He's in custody right now."

"Oh." She sounds disappointed. "At least did Raven kick his ass?"

"Something like that," Robin replies, glancing furtively at Rae, who hasn't spoken or done much of anything since she dropped the shooter.

"Good," she chuckles. Then Argent comes back on. "Robin... is he hurt bad?"

Whether accidentally or on purpose, Robin angles the device so that his bloodied arms and torso can be seen. The effect is striking; this time, even the hardened Pantha gasps. "If you're near a church, now would be a good time to go inside. Robin out."

"Well, what're we waitin' for?" I demand as Robin deactivates his communicator and puts it away. "Let's get goin' to JC Mercy!"

We all pile into my baby. I've already revved up the motor before we realize that we're missing someone (besides BB).

"Uh, Raven?" I holler, leaning out the window. "Sometime this month'd be nice!"

She looks up with a start, and I note that her eyes have lost some of their vacancy. "You guys go ahead. There's something I need to do first."

"One of us has to go with you. We can't risk another 'outburst' from you." Robin, blunt as always.

"Allow me." Starfire, the only person Robin can't act blunt with. Well, maybe _one_ other... "You will keep us up with any developments, yes?"

"Sure."

The girls fly off and I put the T-Car in gear and floor it. With just two occupants, it feels depressingly empty.

The whole minute of silence that passes unnerves me. "Let's see if we can find us a little music, shall we?" Turning on the radio.

_"Reports coming in of a shootout between the Teen Titans and a group of armed gunmen..."_

Shoot. Change channel...

_"...local heroes were fired upon just a few minutes ago..."_

Change...

_"...As many as four Titans and up to 100 bystanders..."_

_"...say at this time that an injured Beast Boy somehow teleported..."_

_"...taken in for questioning..."_

_"...What began as a botched bank robbery snowballed into..."_

_"...actually _ate the soul_ of the shooter remain unconfirmed..."_

I switch it off and glance at Robin. "Damn press is turnin' our our little green friend into a media circus."

"And it's our responsibility to end that." He reactivates his communicator. "Williams? This is Robin. Yes, the Titans Robin. No, I am not dead. Listen up! I need you to tell Denning to send a reporter to Mercy Hospital. And I want you to relay that to all the other papers and TV networks. What? Sorry, man, this is not an exclusive. You still owe me. Right. Uh-huh. Oh, and this will be just a statement, clear the air. _No_ questions. Right. See ya 'round."

"Not like ya to go talkin' to the press," I note as he stows the T-Communicator.

"Not like any of us, especially after that altercation you had following that business with Trigon." The T-Communicator beeps, and he groans. "Who is this? Bumblebee? I can't talk right now. Just spread the word to stay glued to the screens for the next few minutes."

Those minutes pass in strained silence. Then we arrive at our destination, where over fifty reporters await, with more arriving by the sound-truck-load. Unable to resist, I put the babe into an impressive fishtail and park it right at "center stage". Robin steps out in front of the cameras and microphones. I exit from the other side, kept at a safe distance by the vehicle between us. As you may have gathered, I don't handle the media well.

The following words then get beamed to bars and living rooms nationwide.

"As you may know, I am Robin, leader of the Teen Titans superhero team. At approximately 11 AM today, we chased down five armed bank robbers. Despite our precautionary measures, one of them managed to shoot one of our teammates, Beast Boy, in the chest." The reporters are riveted. He pauses, no doubt plagued by the memory of that crucial miscount, an assumption we could all share the blame for. "Beast Boy was then taken here, to the Jump City Mercy Hospital, and the shooter was subdued and taken into custody along with his accomplices. Updates on any changes in the status will be issued accordingly. That is all."

A low murmuring breaks out among the reporters, punctuated by one who yells, "Robin, and truth to the rumors that--"

"Yo!" I recognize the dude. He's Jack J. Benson, the guy whose camera I smashed. "The invite said _no questions!_" I'm pleased to note that he remembers me too, as he backpedals several feet.

"Stand down, Cyborg. Mr. Benson, you are allotted _one_ question. Make it count."

"Uh..." he scrambles for something better to ask about. "Will you be notifying Beast Boy's family of his injury, and bringing them here?"

Naturally, he doesn't know that BB was--_is! is!_I remind myself firmly--an orphan. And his state of affairs vis a vis the Doom Patrol is tenuous. Robin begins struggling to formulate an appropriate response when _everybody_ takes several steps backward.

I look up--ah, it's Star are Raven, coming in for a landing. News travels fast.

They alight next to us, and suddenly I know exactly what to say.

"We're all he has," I say firmly, clasping two of my teammates' shoulders. "We are his family."

A moment of reverential silence is broken by the entire horde shouting questions at us, emboldened as I had feared by the first crack in the dike. As we break for the hospital doors, Robin asks, "Raven, why don't you throw up a force field?"

"I can't."

I frown. What does that mean?


	5. Arc 1: Starfire

**STARFIRE:**

"Where are we going?"

Raven and I are flying over the city. She said she had to "do something." I volunteered to accompany her because what she had previously attempted to "do" was ingest a man's soul.

"Back to the Tower."

She is upset, and when she is upset bad things can happen. "Why?"

"_Please_, Starfire." She sounds strained. "I don't really feel like talking now."

"Oh."

We continue flying. I believe this is what humans call, the awkward.

We land in front of our home. As Raven uses her handprint to open the doors, she suddenly becomes strangely talkative.

"When I returned after becoming the Portal, I still had my powers. They are dark from the source, and yet are still a part of me, even though Trigon is not.

"As you know, my powers are controlled by my emotions. When I was little, my guardians on Azarath forged several Rings of Azar for the purpose of suppressing my powers, as a fail-safe in case I couldn't learn to control my emotions, or perhaps in an attempt to avert the prophecy."

She pauses. I had been so engrossed in her speech, which was so rare and fascinating, that I had not been paying the attention to where we were going. I see now that we are outside her room.

"What happened to the rings?" I query.

"Every time I tried one on, it would melt, Trigon's sigils would appear on my body, and I would vomit fire."

I digest this as we enter the room.

"Naturally, this quickly discouraged them from continuing to try... but after Trigon was vanquished and Azarath was reconstituted, I started to think about asking them to try again. After that business with my Emoticlones running loose, I decided to do so."

She has taken out a box from under the neath of her bed. Within it is a smaller box. She opens it.

"This is the result."

She takes out an insignificant-looking golden ring. I am however not fooled by its appearance. The Ring of Azar I wore during our battle with Trigon looked the same but, as I believe the Earth saying is, it "packed a paunch".

(I once apologized to Raven for breaking that ring by not being cautious with the hand it was on. She said not to worry, it was only _a_Ring of Azar, and such were not uncommon where she came from.)

She slides it onto her left ring finger.

Nothing happens.

Then her eyes glow black.

Then white.

And then--nothing.

"Raven?" I inquire, concerned. "How do you feel?"

She turns towards me. She has the face of a morflark that has finbarred a rashnip.***** "I feel... free."

We leave for the Jump City Hospital of Mercy. I carry Raven because she can no longer levitate herself; she helps by giving directions to me.

We land by Robin who has just finished saying something to the press people, who don't actually press anything (this continues to confuse me).

"Will you be notifying Beast Boy's family of his injury, and bringing them here?" one of them has just asked. I feel Cyborg's metal hand on my shoulder as he replies, "We're all he has. We are his family."

Now all the press people begin shouting at once, jumbled words and phrases creating an ear-paining cacophony. We rush for the doors of the hospital. When Raven cannot create a force field as Robin requests, he throws down a "flash pellet" to impede the press people.

Once we are safely inside, he turns to Raven. "What's wrong? Why couldn't you use your powers?"

As she explains to Robin and Cyborg about the Ring of Azar, I commence to think. The ring I wore during our battle with Trigon was created for defensive purposes only, and had shattered in the fight with my evil body-double; but when it had protected us from Trigon's destructive powers I had sensed the forces within it--more strange or powerful than any I have felt before or since. What sort of effect might such a ring have on Raven herself? Could it be entirely benign--or might it present a danger for her?

Kid Flash comes jogging around the corner as Raven wraps her speech up. "Guys! You made it!"

"I assume you got Beast Boy into the operating room okay," Robin states as we follow Kid Flash back down the corridor. "Who's in charge there?"

"Dr. Jorge Sanchez."

"The head of surgery himself!"

"I remember him!" I exclaim. "He saved my arm,... two years ago."

"You ain't the only one in town owin' Dr. Sanchez a debt of gratitude," Cyborg responds. "If anyone can s--" He cuts himself off. "Well, BB can't possibly be in better hands now."

_* - She looks stunned._

And so now we wait here, near the room of operating.

Half an hour.

An hour.

Two hours.

Humans have a proverb: "Silence is golden." If that were truly so, we would now have more gold than the Fort of Knox.

Kid Flash has long since left. Raven is in the corner, meditating. Robin and I share a couch. Cyborg has just handed us two cups of caffeinated beverage he has retrieved from a machine.

Suddenly the doors to the room of operating swing open. All of our eyes are immediately riveted to the newcomer: Dr. Jorge Sanchez, MD, chief surgeon of Jump City Mercy Hospital.

_Oh, X'Hal,_ I pray, _please let it be good news!_

"I'm sorry, Titans," he says quietly. "We did everything we could." He takes off his cap. "Beast Boy is dead."


	6. Arc 1: Robin II

ROBIN:

There is a moment of stunned incomprehension.

Starfire emits a gasp and drops her coffee cup.

There is a _CRACK_ and then both of us are on the floor. Cyborg has convulsively gripped the couch so hard it's snapped in two.

All our eyes automatically turn to Raven.

It's difficult to tell her expression beneath her hood, but nothing has exploded or gone kaput, so I suppose that Ring of Azar really does work.

"I, er, think I should go inform the reporters," Dr. Sanchez mumbles. Sanchez. Catching him unoccupied was an unplanned bonus. Wally and Sanchez: together, the best possible chance for Beast Boy to live.

It didn't work out that way.

"Yeah." I get to my feet. "Umm... can we--?"

"Of course." His eyes are sad and tired. Strained. Sanchez is one of the best at what he does. (I wonder why I keep reminding myself of this fact.) Losing a patient, any patient, does not sit well with him.

We walk into the OR. A blanket has been tactfully draped over the body lying on the table. Halfway to it, Star can't take it any more and turns and collapses into my arms, sobbing. Raven stops next to us, still hooded, inscrutable. Cyborg alone makes it all the way.

He touches the green skin tentatively. Then, abruptly, he falls to his knees, looking at his hands, choking out in a voice I've never heard before: "I can't feel him... I c-can't feel h-him..."

"Yes, you can!" Raven, removing her hood to reveal a tear-stained face. "Think! You still feel _for_ him. You are _still_ human! And that means..."

"...I _can_ feel him." He gets up, moves to the head of the table, lowers himself slowly, and gently touches his best friend's forehead with his cheek. A single tear forms and falls from his "real" eye, splashing on Beast Boy--

Beast Boy.

Oh my God. Beast Boy... is **dead**.

It hits me.

When I was little, my parents shone in my eyes with the invincibility and immortality of adults. A presumed constant. I was here and they were here, with me, and that was unchangeable.

It changed, the cherished myth shattered when I was eight years old.

A new myth for my mind to concoct for itself. Superheroes. Good guys, always winning, never hurt, never dying.

An illusion. A self-deluding, protective illusion.

A whole little world, coming crashing down around my head.

Beast Boy lies dead on that table.

Only now do I re-comprehend the horror of death.

Only now I begin to cry.

**_End Arc One_**


	7. Intermission 1

"Good morning. This is Tina Curzon, reporting live from Jump City for ABS News.

"I am standing outside Vegrandis Dei Cemetery, where dozens of the members of the superhero community have gathered to pay their last respects to Beast Boy, the Teen Titan cruelly cut down by a bullet two days ago.

"The crowd here, as you can see, is enormous and still swelling, as 'Jumpers' continue to arrive to say goodbye to one of their favorite citizens. Seated up front are those to whom the Titans have extended invitations, including Mayor Antonio Renozzi and foreign dignitaries.

"Once the pallbearers arrive with the coffin, the eulogies are expected--oh my God, what is that thing??

"Are we being attacked? Is--funeral--what--?

"Er...

"Ahem. Bit of a surprise there. As you can see, ah, a spaceship has landed right on top of that hill over there and--good Lord!... ... Well, it appears that the Titan Starfire knows this erm, very _large _man, in fact--zoom in--yes, he appears to be a fellow Tamaranean, possibly an ambassador of some sort. Goodness, they grow 'em big over there...

"Well.

"Definitely someone of importance, as he too is being seated up front; this appears to be just as much of a surprise for them as it is for us. (Can we--? No?) Unfortunately, our equipment is not completely set up yet, so we can't hear what they're saying up there.

"As I was saying, the eulogies are expected to begin once the coffin arrives, with team leader Robin going first.

"_And_here it comes now--the coffin, carried by Bumblebee--of the Titans East, who are all here--Wonder Girl, Argent, and Red Star, all the way from Russia--making a dramatic flying entrance. The crowd is falling silent as they lay it on the graveside dais. Our sound system will hopefully be online in a minute or two.

"This has been Tina Curzon reporting."


	8. Arc 2: Robin

**ROBIN:**

Well, here we go.

The pallbearers have arrived, finishing their route that took them from Titans Island and through (or over) the city's four boroughs. All the invitees are here, plus Galfore--bit of a surprise, that; he said that after Starfire transmitted the news to him, he decided on his own initiative to come and pay his respects "as befitting a fearsome warrior". All eyes are on me now, presumably including those of the TV cameras, which stand a healthy distance away from us.

I step up to the makeshift podium and look around. Everything is as stipulated in Beast Boy's will, written along with the rest of ours a year ago:

1. No church service or attendance of a religious authority, as Beast Boy was a self-described agnostic--or more accurately, after a bit of reading, a self-described "atheistic secular humanist", or, as Cy put it, "close enough for jazz". I've noticed that many superheroes are that or similar, mostly becoming so after starting their "careers". After a few years, we find it difficult enough to believe in people, let alone anyone we can't see. (Me, I'm still undecided on the matter; and I don't pry about the others.) Vegrandis Dei is the perfect setting for this funeral, it being Jump City's cemetery with the most nondenominational burials, at a rate approaching 100%... The people interred here didn't know where they were going. They didn't know what they believed in or if there was life after death and, often, didn't know what hit them.

2. No news media at the site, to help keep it respectful.

3. And--I can't stop myself from shooting a glance at the coffin--to be... buried naked.

When we reached that clause in the reading yesterday, we all cracked up so hard. Even Raven was grinning.

"'I wish to be laid to rest the same way I came in to this world,'" I read out loud. "Huh, a philosopher to boot. Who knew?"

Cyborg had cackled and wiped his eyes. "Man, trust BB to make everything more difficult!"

The decision was been made to have the coffin's glass cover opaqued in strategic places. Afterwards, I made sure the others understood that remarks like Cyborg's were out of the question for tomorrow (now today). An innocent slip of the tongue at the wrong time, in front of the wrong person, can and _will_ be misconstrued and blown out of proportion.

I used to love the spotlight. Literally... But that changed years ago.

Showtime.

_"Showtime. Knock 'em dead, son."_ That's what-- what he used to--

Drat. Focused. Must stay focused.

"Good afternoon.

"First of all, I would like to thank all of you for coming out here today to join us in mourning Beast Boy. He would have been flattered by all the attention. Believe me, he loved getting attention."

Scattered snickers in the crowd. I'd made myself write a eulogy Beast Boy would have appreciated: solemn, but shot through with bits of appropriate humor.

"He may have sometimes cracked jokes about his popularity, particularly with the ladies--" some more snickers and a couple of half-cheers-- "but at the end of the day, as it were, he did not expect much personal adulation, instead preferring the self-satisfaction of a job well done. So, before I continue, I wish to thank you on Beast Boy's behalf for showing how much you truly care."

As I pause some guy with glasses and a goatee at the back of the crowd unfurls a small banner saying "TITANS FOREVER!" I continue.

"Contrary to what some people think, Beast Boy was not a mutant. He was born just as human as you and me. It was freak accident, early in life, that gave him his amazing powers.

"What would other people do under the same circumstances? Use those powers for personal gain--perhaps even as a criminal? Or maybe try to hide it, hide themselves, in a bid for 'normalcy' and anonymity? Not so Beast Boy. He made the momentous decision to use his powers for the common good, fighting for truth, justice--and, occasionally, the last slice of pizza."

Louder laughter ripples through the crowd. I timed that one well.

"And that's just what Beast Boy was: the common good. I'm not going to to try and paint him as some sort of saint, but you couldn't ask for a nicer guy to be your teammate.

"Take his honesty, for example. Beast Boy must have been greatly influenced by the story of George Washington and the cherry tree, because I can never remember him telling a lie... and he could not stand anyone else being deceitful..."

I blink. Was that--? Could that have been--? I pause and squint out at the edge of the crowd, by some trees... Nope. Must have been a trick of the light.

How odd. For a moment, I could have sworn I'd seen... Terra.

Focus!

"When I first met Beast Boy, years ago, I could have hardly imagined the unusual directions our acquaintance, and, later, friendship would take us..."


	9. Arc 2: Cyborg

**CYBORG:**

It's a beautiful day. Scarcely a cloud in the sky, cool breeze. "A perfect day for flying," as BB sometimes said.

It shouldn't be. Funerals oughta be held in solemn weather--overcast, windy. Rainy as a bonus.

Not on a perfect day for flying.

Robin, in front of us, is settling into a rhythm. I look away from him to the rest of the attendees: Raven, hooded, inscrutable. Starfire and the surprising Galfore, both wearing Tamaranean funeral clothes (metal armor and black fabric). The mayor and his deputy, both allies for us on the city council. Titans East, the pallbearers, and other honorary Titans who managed to come--Bushido, Herald, Ravager, Jinx and Kid Flash. The Doom Patrol, Beast Boy's first "family"--Robotman and Negative Man, both (naturally) expressionless; Elasti-Girl, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief; Mento, stoic, hands clenched on his knees. To his left, a teenaged boy and girl who, if asked, would show credentials naming them as head of the Fans of the Titans, Jump City Chapter, and president of the Beast Boy Fan Club International, respectively. And beyond them, on the last chair in the row, a guy my age dressed casually with a baseball cap perched on his head: Matt Logan, Beast Boy's long-lost cousin, up from LA. When he showed up at the Tower yesterday, a cursory check of the computer systems unearthed an e-mail correspondence verifying his identity, stretching back two months--right after that trouble in Hollywood with Atlas and Control Freak.

My eyes stray back to Mento, due up for the next eulogy once Robin finishes. That guy is the toughest hardass I've ever met, running his team like an army platoon and taking risks that would make anybody else flinch, partly out of a kind of inborn fatalism--"Doom" Patrol, indeed! And yet he's married (to a teammate, natch) and cared enough for BB to raise him and give him an education (albeit in the School of Hard Knocks). Right beneath that rigid surface lies a very complicated man. What will _his_ eulogy be like?

"...And learn from the example he set us."

Looks like we're about to find out.

Now both Mento and Elasti-Girl approach the podium. She hands him some sheets of paper, then stands slightly offside. He glances down at the papers, then back up at the crowd. He opens his mouth to speak--nothing. I notice he's gripping the podium's edges very tightly. His mouth opens again--stops. He clears his throat. The rustling in the crowd behind me attests to their growing impatience.

He glances down at the papers again--his eyes seems blank. The podium looks like it's about to vibrate to pieces. Once more, he opens his mouth to speak...

"Aw, hell," he whispers. Then his whole body shudders, and Mento begins to cry.

You can hear a pin drop. I _do_ hear a quiet, solitary "Boo" from the crowd, immediately followed by the _thwock_ of (I'm guessing) knuckles on a skull.

I can't help but stare. Ever hear of the phrase "wracked with sobs"? This is it. This is somebody who is absolutely not used to crying, and now it seems like his whole body is trying to exit via the tear ducts.

Still crying, he leans on his wife as she leads him back to their seats; behind them, some forlorn sheets fall unread to the ground.

Several seconds pass. Then Robin taps me on the shoulder--yipe! I'm next. Guess Mento's in no shape for public speaking, after all.

And now it's me at the podium, feeling curiously lightheaded. The somber faces in the crowd show we share the same feeling: the atmosphere has shifted. Now we all feel plain lousy.

_Thanks a lot, Mento_--wait, no, that's ungracious of me. Can't really blame him.

"I was going--" The microphone screeches; I tap it and it quickly subsides. "I wanted, at first, to write a speech to give y'all today. Instead, I decided to write a poem. It's not a very good poem--" I permit myself a smile-- "in fact it's probably quite a bad poem. But I'm sure Beast Boy wouldn't have minded. He was a big fan of bad poetry, mostly his own." That raises some chuckles. I unfold my sheet of paper (Robin's advice; I could have just committed it to computer memory and said it by heart, but this looks better) and read:

_"Beast Boy wasn't the normalest-looking_

_Dude you've ever seen:_

_He had pointy ears and teeth,_

_And his skin was colored green._

_"He was a bit of a crab sometimes,_

_Or a dirty rat, it's true;_

_A skunk, a dog, a chicken, a hog--_

_He could be all those things, too._

_"But Beast Boy was a hero,_

_And Beast Boy was a friend._

_You knew that's he'd remain true to his pals_

_Until the very end._

_"We laughed together, cried together,_

_Played together, fought--each other,_

_But also fought evil, every day,_

_And with a smile--that was his way._

_"Because Beast Boy loved cracking jokes and playing games;_

_He wasn't averse to pulling pranks._

_He was the glue that kept us loose,_

_And for that, he has our thanks._

_"But sometimes he'd cease his laughter,_

_And I'd see him sitting there with a frown,_

_And I knew then it was my turn_

_To pick him up when he was down._

_"Video games were the therapy_

_For his every affliction;_

_The only thing they could not cure_

_Was his tofu addiction._

_"So we'd press lots of buttons;_

_We'd blow up some stuff._

_We'd sit there for hours,_

_And it was never enough._

_"But Hark! is that the call_

_Of Robin yelling 'Titans, go!'?_

_We have a duty to our city,_

_So we leave to fight the foe._

_"And when the battle was over,_

_He would go to bed and snore,_

_Secure in the precious knowledge_

_That he'd done his part--and more._

_"And now he's dead._

_And now, sometimes, I think I hear_

_The tread of his shoes upon the stair,_

_But when I turn around--_

_Then he's not there._

_"And there's no one to crack bad jokes_

_Or prank us unsuspecting folks._

_The remotes and joysticks gather dust_

_And I feel like crying until I rust._

_Oh, how I wish this wasn't so!_

_So long, Beast Boy. Farewell. Adieu."_

The crowd is silent. The seconds tick by, and now I'm mentally kicking myself. _Stupid! Stupid! Why couldn't you just write a simple speech like every--_

Applause. Loud, thunderous, _deafening_ applause.

I exhale with relief. As I grin and raise a finger skywards, I can practically hear the little grass stain speaking into my ear: "Dude, that is the _worst bad_ poetry I've ever heard."


	10. Arc 2: Robin II

**ROBIN:**

Wow! I never knew Cyborg had that in him. Sure, he's a mechanical genius, and his creations like the T-Car can by very, uh, creative, but their emphasis is on functionality. They don't _sing_.

"Congrats, Cyborg. Beautiful. Just--beautiful."

"Thanks, man."

"Impressive," Raven says as he seats himself between us. "You'd have made Beast Boy proud."

"Aw--shucks. Heh."

I glance back at the crowd--some more placards supporting the Teen Titans and/or Beast Boy have been raised. I turn back around as Starfire, our last eulogizer (Raven opted out), gets behind the podium. I wonder what she'll say.

"Greetings, friends. I, too, shall not be giving a speech, as I understand is customary at Earth funerals."

Oh.

"Instead, I shall sing a traditional Tamaranean song of mourning, called 'K'd'bz'k tha'."

_Oh._

"The full song has 3,700 verses and lasts a whole Earth week. I understand this would be impractical, so I shall sing an abridged version instead."

Sh!t, meet fan. I have only ever heard Starfire sing "traditional Tamaranean songs" on very few occasions. They were, to say the least, memorable. Practically _traumatic!_ What a way to cap things off here! I can just see the screaming headlines--"Stampede At Titan's Funeral", "Along Song Creates Mayhem"... We're going to be _laughingstocks_.

Her mouth opens. There's no stopping her now. I brace myself...

Has Star lost her voice? Her mouth is still open, but there's no-- Ah, I hear it now. It's... it's actually quite soft, not at all what I expected... gentle, sad. Very sad, in fact. I don't understand a single word, but suddenly my eyes feel wet. I glance around; the others are almost as still as statues. She raises the pitch a notch, and the words draw out longer. I close me eyes and let the song wash over me. Song? No, this is _music_, a music made of words, an orchestra nestled within one grieving voice. Someone behind me starts to sob. Still the alien lyrics come, conveying waves of emotion: shock, disbelief, mourning, loss, an undercurrent of loss running through it all, and an almost inhuman grief that makes my heart try to leap out my throat. By now I, too, am crying, not like I did when Beast Boy died, not as a reaction but as a remembrance, a mourning. Then the song changes subtly, the sense of loss still present but now supporting feelings of hope, renewal, of something finished, like a closed book. Then what my ears cannot identify but my heart tells me is a farewell... fading... to silence.

"I thank you for listening."

No wild applause greets this. I suspect that, like me, most of the people are simply in no shape to start clapping hands. There is some, but is muted, subdued.

As Starfire walks back to her seat, I intercept her. "Don't be fooled by the reaction," I whisper. "Silence can be greater praise than noise, in cases like this. You did good." I give her a quick hug.

"Ge'hoakk," rumbles Galfore. I hope that's not Tamaranean for "hands off the princess."

"I thank you both," she says simply.

As she sits down, her old "nanny" clumsily gives her a pat on the back that would probably break a normal human in half. Now Raven's up front.

"Thank you, Starfire, for the... very moving song. The audience will now please rise for the closing ceremony."

This part I've planned carefully. None of us (except Red Star, who gave me some pointers) are "actual" soldiers, but considering all the warring we do I figured the funeral required a touch of the military.

Herald stands up before the coffin, six Titans lining up perpendicular to him. On my cue, he begins playing "Taps" on his horn. On a certain note, he activates it, opening a dimensional rift. Starfire, Cyborg, Bumblebee, Speedy, Red Star and Argent each fire a shot of their respective weaponries into the rift, which then seals. Another note, another barrage. Again, completing the three-volley salute.

The music ends.

Then the four surviving members of the original Teen Titans pick up the coffin of the fifth member and convey it to his open grave. Mr. Furst, the caretaker of Vegrandis Dei Cemetery, hands me a shovel. I scoop up a clod of dirt from the adjacent pile, drop it on a patch of strategically opaquified glass. Hand the shovel to Cyborg. Who scoops and hands it to Starfire. To Raven. Bumblebee. Aqualad. Wonder Girl. Galfore. Matt Logan. Mento. Robotman. Ravager. Jinx. Bushido. Mayor Renozzi. And when we run out of VIPs, the common folk who came of their own accord step up, one at a time, scoop and toss, scoop and toss, men and women, old and young, the people Beast Boy chose to lay his life on the line to protect, scooping and tossing and handing around the shovel until their hero's burial is complete.

"So now what?" Raven asks. The four of us have been standing at graveside the entire time and now we're leaving with the rest of the stragglers. In the distance, I can hear the news crews packing up. So many people came... And yet, the one person I was looking for, didn't show up. Well, it's not like I actually _invited_ him, but he of all people would be paying attention to what happens in Jump City, especially the crimes. Maybe... Well, whatever. He didn't come.

"Back to the Tower for a non-denominational wake, as stipulated in the will. Titans members only."

"Yo, what's goin' on?"

I look up, startled. A whole bunch of people are gathered together and milling around near one of the groves planted by the cemetery fence, muttering and looking at something. What?

"Make way, comin' through, 'scuse us." We wend our way through to the front of the crowd and-- Holy Toledo!

There's Gizmo. And Mammoth. And Mad Mod, Kwiz Kid, and Dr. Light, each one unconscious and trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey. And that's not even the most unusual bit. Scattered among the knocked-down trees and upturned soil are a variety of black metallic objects, some round, some flat, and all sleek-looking.

We fan out. "How come we didn't hear this happen?" Raven asks.

Cyborg plucks a device from Gizmo's backpack. "Here's your answer--looks to me this thing could lay out a noise suppression field. These guys thought they could pay us a surprise visit... but someone surprised them first."

I grab the end of one of the objects that is stuck in a tree trunk. It's been thrown with some force, as it is buried deeper and harder to remove than one would assume. A sharp tug, and I'm holding it in the sunlight.

A batarang.

"It appears as though an entire army battled here," Starfire notes. "Whoever subdued our foes must have been very skilled and had the advantage of numbers."

"No, Starfire." And I grin foolishly. _He didn't forget about me!_ "These bozos were outnumbered by one man."

And maybe it's just another trick of the light, but I catch a fleeting glimpse of a black cape whipping out of sight behind a bunch of trees at the far end of the grove.

"My mentor."

"This is the Batman of whom you rarely speak, yes?"

"Aw yeah, baby!" Cyborg punches the air ecstatically. "You guys just got owned by the goddamn _Batman_!"

I wince and hope Bruce is no longer in the vicinity. He hates being called that.

"From what I've heard of his m.o.," Raven says, "he usually leaves a note behind... But I don't see any."

"No," I shake my head. "He didn't have to."


	11. Arc 2: Starfire

STARFIRE:

It is now nearing midnight, and the wake of Beast Boy is winding down.

A "wake", from what I understand, is a sort of party connected to a funeral, that celebrates the life of the one deceased, originating from the Land of Ire. It is usually religion-oriented but since Beast Boy was not religious then neither is his wake.

We started it after ensuring that the five villains who attempted to attack the funeral were taken into custody by the police. I am astonished that they were all taken the out by a single man who does not even have super powers. (I am also puzzled by Cyborg calling him a "goddamn Batman", as I understand this to be a curse word. Earth "lingo" is very frustrating.) Robin does speak highly of him, but he only speaks of him very rarely, and even while praising him he sounds detached, impersonal. This is the odd, for when I asked my other friends about him they said that Batman had raised him after his parents' murder, and trained him fight crime alongside him--perhaps even to succeed him. All that is known is that one day he was in Batman's Gotham City, the next he was in Jump City, at a fortuitous time for me. It sounds like they had an out-falling of some kind, but every time someone attempts to give the subject the broach Robin has changed topics.

But he seemed very much pleased that Batman came to the funeral today and guarded it... Maybe it is a ripe time to ask him again.

I get up from the couch and look around. Galfore, my k'norfka and king, left right after the funeral, explaining that there were some affairs of state back home that would brook no further delays; before going he gave me a big varshork*** **hug, some books and a satchel of food, saying I looked too much the thin. The Titans East are no longer in the Tower--they gave given us a "night off" and are patrolling the city in our stead. Pantha came and stayed. Hot Spot came and left, as did the Herald and the Ravager. Raven is meditating in a corner; earlier tonight she drank an alcoholic beverage for the first time ever and said she could not see what all the fuss was about (I myself prefer mustard). Jinx is petting Silkie and talking in animation with Pantha about something or other. Bushido and Kid Flash are playing a video game badly. But Robin is nowhere in sight.

*****-A wild animal native to Tamaran, similar in temperament to Terran bears. Varshork dolls are a ubiquitous Tamaranean children's toy.

I go to the doors, passing Cyborg, Matt Logan and Red Star, who are all standing together and clutching full drinking glasses; Red Star appears to be trying to teach them a sad-sounding Russian song, but I do not think he is having the success, mainly because it is not the first time tonight those glasses have been full. Still, they make up for ability with enthusiasm.

As the doors shut behind me, I sense movement on my right--but it is just Wonder Girl and Argent. Strange--one is supporting the other.

"Is Argent all right?" I ask concernedly.

"She'll be fine. Little Miss Brit here just apparently holds an elevated opinion of how much booze she can hold."

"Bugger off," mumbles Argent, whose face has a decidedly greenish tint. "Shay, woss the big idea anyanyhow? BeaBoy'sh cousin getsh to come b-but--_urp_--not th' Doom P-Patrolol? Sheems bit--_hip!_--harsh t' me."

"Uncalled-for, Toni," Wonder Girl chides her. "They did come, but Mento was still pretty upset and they left early. You must have missed them."

"Pardon me, but do you know where Robin is?"

"Our Peerless Leader? Saw him going down thataway 'bout half an hour ago." She points down the hallway behind me. Argent turns even greener and covers her mouth. "Crap. Let's get you back to the john. I swear..." Her voice fades as she flies the two of them away and around a corner. Well, she must be lost, because all we have over there are bathrooms. And I do not even know anybody called John.

I walk down "thataway" until--a voice! I hear a voice, low, muttering, emanating from the shadows--when did it become so dark in here? Precautionarily, I raise my arm, powering its starbolt energy...

Robin!

It is Robin, walking along and muttering to himself, shuffling a sheaf of papers in his hands. As I watch, he walks directly into a wall, then rebounds and continues without pausing.

"Robin, what is wrong?"

He looks up--his mask is off! Something very wrong is happening here. He _never_ takes the mask off.

"Oh, h'lo, Star," he says distantly. "I was jus' thinking: that shouldna happened. That plan, that formation, shouldna used it. Unsafe. Not good enough. So decided t' review 'em all. See this? See this?" He waves one of the papers at me, but I cannot see what is written on it because I have turned my head in disgust. His breath _reeks_ of alcohol! Seldom have I smelled anything more nauseating. He, like Argent, must have an "elevated opinion of how much booze" he can hold, but while it affected her physically, it seems to have affected his mind instead.

"B-9 Formation!" He announces triumphantly, then shreds it into little pieces. "There! Poof! Gone! Unsafe, goodbye." Now he holds another one aloft. "C-8 Formation. Ha! Out!" He crumples it up and throws it away. Then he's back to shuffling. "Good... no good... B-5, unsafe... A-10, 's no good, hafta revise it..."

"Robin, you must stop this!" I grab his arms; paper falls like confetti. "You must not blame yourself for Beast Boy's death!"

"'S all my fault," he whispers brokenly. The blue eyes looking into mine are sad and vulnerable. "The plan... not safe enough..."

"To Hruntaag with your plans! It is _not your fault_. Robin, you cannot plan everything!"

"Yes, I can." He straightens defiantly. "Learned fr'm th' best."

"Is that all I am to you, then?" I demand bitterly. "Just another plan?"

He sags, and appears to shrink into himself. X'Hal, have I gone too far?

After a long silence, he mumbles, "I think... I _really_ need to go to bed."

"I wonderful idea!" I say immediately. "Let me assist you."

With him leaning on me the same way I saw Argent leaning on Wonder Girl earlier, we reach his room licking-a-split (I _think_ that is the correct phrase).

Standing in the doorway, Robin straightens up again. "Starfire?"

"Yes?"

"Just so you know... I could _never_ plan anything with you."

Then he kisses me.

After a few moments, I shut the door behind us.


	12. Arc 2: Raven

**RAVEN:**

"Morning, Raven."

"Morning, Cyborg." I eye him appraisingly. Aside from some bagginess beneath the eye, he appears to be unaffected by the sake and vodka two of our foreign teammates brought to last night's wake. Cast-iron stomach, that guy.

"See you're still wearin' that ring."

Stay calm. "I think it's still... you know. Too soon. Don't want to risk it."

"Oh."

Maybe I should change the subject. "Say, you haven't seen Starfire around, have you?"

"No, why?"

"Well, I had... a question for her, but when I went to her room a few minutes ago, she wasn't there."

"Hmm... You think maybe she mighta zonked out on the--"

We're passing by Robin's room, the door of which opens and--I do a double-take.

"Good morning, friends!"

Cyborg and I exchange astonished glances. Starfire, in Robin's room...?

"Uh, good morning, Starfire." C'mon, c'mon, think of something to say! "Did you... er... have a good night?"

"Yes, even though I was in a different bed from my own."

Cyborg's eye is nearly bugging out of its socket, but he manages to keep his voice level. "And... did you like it there?"

"Like it?" Her brow wrinkles. "I suppose one might term it satisfactory."

A sound like a strangled cat escapes Cyborg's throat. As for myself, my mind is a blank such as I have never previously achieved without intense meditation.

Oh, great, just to make this even more embarrassing: Robin's up.

"Good morning Robin!"

"Hey, Star."

"Dude, you just got rated 'satisfactory'!"

He blinks. "What?"

"The two of you--last night..."

His expression slowly segues into one of horror. "Wait a minute--you mean we--but--I don't even remember--" He's clutching his head now. "I don't _remember_ anything happening! The two of us were arguing, then I--um--ended it--but then it's all a blank! Do you seriously mean--??"

Poor guy. I know _I'd_ want to remember something like that.

"Well, better luck next time, man."

I frown. Where had _that_ last thought come from?

"Excuse me!" Starfire, who up till now has been standing around with a bemused expression. "I fail to see what of of the fuss is about!"

"Well, Starfire, Robin and you sharing a bed for the first time is a pretty big personal milestone." I blink. Wait a minute--did _I_ just say that?

"But we did not share beds. After I gave Robin the tucking-in, I fell to sleep on his couch. And I _still_ do not understand the fuss about it!"

The sudden silence is punctuated by a loud "_BWA-HA-HA-HAA!_" from Cyborg. Robin's face has cycled from white to red and is now an interesting shade of burgundy. I suspect mine isn't that far behind. And poor Starfire looks more confused than ever.

"We thought you and Robin had been... goin' at it," Cyborg semi-explains between bouts of snickering. Starfire lists one eyebrow, a human mannerism she's picked up. "Y'know, doing the dirty. Knocking boots."

"We thought you had sex."

Azar, did I just say that out loud?? And now it's me everyone's staring at... The amount of concentrated embarrassment here is practically tinging the air pink.

"You know what?" I say brightly. "I think we should kill this conversation right now. Star--I need to talk to you about something. In private."

We break up. As I head back to my room with Starfire, I hear Robin and Cyborg: "Coffee?" "Coffee." "Lots." "Yep."

We enter my room. "Raven, that was very much the rude of you--"

"Can it, Starfire, there's bigger problems here than my social graces. Starting with this." I raise my left hand. "I haven't been able to get this stupid ring off since I put it on."

She's startled. "That is not the good news."

"Sure ain't. It's definitely not _physically _stuck. I ran a few... tests, and something won't let it budge." I scowl at it. "Stupid Azarathians. This is all their fault."

"How?"

"...I'm not sure. But it is. Whatever. The point is, do you have any ideas how to help me?"

"Perhaps if we told the others, they could--"

"No!" Good grief! "No, I don't want to tell them. It would be a distraction and, uh, I think we've had enough embarrassments here for one day." I get up. "Probably I'll be able to get it off alone, or it'll come off by itself or something."

"But, Raven--"

"Conversation closed." Boy, am I hungry. Breakfast, here I come.

I've just started pouring my herbal tea when Robin makes his announcement. "Seeing as how we're all here and there's no time like the present, I think we should decide now who takes Beast Boy's spot on the team."

"You can't!"

"Raven--"

"You just _can't!_"

"All right. Tell me why."

"Because--" I rack my brains desperately-- "Well--because--you just can't! You _can't_ replace Beast Boy!"

"That's enough." He sounds fed up. "I did _not_say 'replace him', I said 'take his place'. I acknowledge that there is now a permanent Beast Boy-shaped hole in our lives, but you're crazy if you think I'll allow us to operate below full power. And Raven, I understand your ring allows you to emote freely, but you'd better get meditating or whatever and get your emotions in check, because I want you back to normal and useful the minute you take it off. Understood?"

All I can do is nod.

"Good. Then let's get down to brass tacks."

"I do not see any tacks of brass."

"Idiom, Starfire. Ask me later."

He spreads the honorary Titans' dossiers on the table--I'm always surprised by how much our once-small organization has grown. Then the discussions begin.

Melvin and the other underage members are eliminated right off the bat. Then members like Red Star, who patrol fixed areas, are nixed.

I remain quiet until Robin brings up the Titans East. "I'd be glad having any one of them here, but this is our problem, not theirs. I don't to complicate things for Bumblebee as well."

"Though I wouldn't mind having that Aqualad on _my_ team," I giggle. Then I look up and all three of them are staring at me strangely.

Maybe I should just shut up from here on.

The eliminations continue with minimal input from me. Eventually, we're down to six.

"Argent, Herald, Jericho, Hot Spot, Ravager, and Wonder Girl," Robin names the remaining dossiers. "I think our best bet is Wonder Girl--she's one of our most experienced and powerful members--except for one problem: she already turned the position down."

"Oh, great! Not only have you decided to fill a dead man's shoes while they're still warm, you're also going around about it behind our backs."

"Raven, that is _enough_. One more outburst like that and you'll get _no_ say in who your future teammate is. Not that you've displayed much interest in that so far anyway." He's pissed. Good. If I'm pissed, I see no reason to be so alone. "Besides, I haven't asked her _now_, yet, but I see no concrete reason she'd give a different answer than last time--which was when _you_, Raven, went on hiatus for three months."

I remember that. I temporarily left to do... to do... something. Whatever, it can't have been that important if I don't remember it.

"Which brings us to our next candidate: Argent, who _did_ fill in for Raven here."

They ponder this.

"No."

"No."

"No."

"I seem to recall a headline from that time--'Terrible Titans Make Their Mark On Air Force One'." I smirk. "Missed me much?"

"Lemme put it this way: I'm glad that gal's on our side. And I'm _really_ glad there's usually an ocean or two between us."

"So, four to go. Next up: Herald. Thoughts?"

Cyborg speaks up. "Fighting, for us, is a contact sport. Without that fancy horn of his, I doubt he'd be able to hold his own."

"Good point. And I guess that bumps off Jericho, too, even if he does have a superpower."

"Which leaves us with Hot Spot and the Ravager."

"If I had to pick one--and I do--I'd go with Ravager. No knock on Hot Spot, but I think she _needs_ to be a more integral part of the team, right now."

"All that raw talent," Cyborg muses, "and she's Slade's daughter... we need her where we can keep an eye on her."

"Correction: where we can enforce for her the idea that the right is better than the wrong."

"And if daddy dearest comes calling, she'll be safe." Robin isn't looking at me, but I can tell who those words were directed at.

Before I can formulate a reply, the phone rings. Robin snags it with a magnetic gripline. Show-off. "Hello?"

"Robin, it's Kiki." Kirichi "Kiki" Oksama, the Beast Boy Fan Club International president. She was at the funeral last week. ...Wait, no, that was yesterday. How time flies.

"Hey, Kiki. What's up?"

"Robin, I think you guys should see this--turn your TV to Channel 5."

Robin grabs the remote and turns on the viewscreen. The news is on and--is that Beast Boy?? No--wait--it's a bunch of damn kids dressed up like him!

"--is unexpectedly widespread," the reporter is saying. "Across the nation, large numbers of children and teenagers are paying tribute to the fallen hero."

Cyborg grabs my arm and I realize that it was about to throw my chair at the screen. I don't even remember picking it up. Some pimply youth wearing green face paint and fake vampire fangs is telling the interviewer that almost all his friends like the Teen Titans better than Superman or Batman other the other heroes because we're "just like them." Cut to a green-smeared black-and-purple clad first grader who intones, "Beast Boy was cool!"

"Isn't this great?" Kiki enthuses.

"Um... yeah. Listen, I'm kind of busy now, I'll get in touch later."

"Sorry, sorry," I preempt him as he signs off. "I don't know what came over me."

"Apology accepted."

"This changes things," Cyborg opines. "All those impressionable kids out there, looking up to us--what happens if we put someone like Ravager on the team?"

"She _is_ reformed, you know."

"Granted, she's no Argent. But I've seen her in action and we were paired together on that last mission against the HIVE, and let me tell you: she's still a big loose cannon."

"Cyborg is correct. Perhaps it would be best to start the choosing process over to pick someone less loose, yes?"

Robin rubs his chin, then grins slowly. "No... I have a better idea."

I don't like the look of that grin.


	13. Arc 2: Ravager

**RAVAGER:**

I'm still in shock from the call.

My T-Communicator rang two hours ago. "This is Robin. Ravager, are you busy now?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Catch you later."

As I turned it off, I parried another thrust by my opponent. "Ha! One more such distraction, and victory will be mine!"

"Don't get cocky, kiddo."

He was a newbie, or more fittingly a noob. He'd called himself the Super Saber and his motif was, you guessed it, swords.

_ZING! CLANG!_

After a string of petty crimes, he'd decided to go for the big time this morning by robbing the San Julio branch of Bells, Cargo. He was just leaving with the loot when I arrived on the scene.

_SPLANG! CHLONG!_

"You're not doing too bad," I observed as we circled warily. "Pretty good, in fact."

"Then why--" _KRING!_ "--are you smiling like that?"

"Because--" _SPING!_ "--I'm not left handed."

After a pause, he asked, "Aren't you supposed to switch hands now or something?"

"Oh, no, no, no," I grinned wickedly. "I was _born_ right-handed." I drew my other sword. "I _trained_ to become ambidextrous."

_SHONGG! ZING! KLING! TZANG!_

"Your costume _sucks_--"

_SSHRIP!_

"Your patter _sucks_--"

_TCHINK!_

"And you fight pretty well--for a retarded, one-armed five-year-old!"

And then I delivered the coup de grace.

Well, not literally.

After knocking him out and tying him up for the police, I flipped the T-Communicator open. "_Now_ I'm not busy."

"Ravager. I ask you this with the utmost seriousness... How would feel about joining the main team--on a permanent basis?"

The world spun. "Oh my god. This is not a hypothetical question, is it?" I asked, grabbing a lamppost for support.

"The question stands," Robin replied, and I saw him grinning because he could guess the answer.

"Yes! Oh, yes, yes, yes, _yes!_ Thank you! Oh my goodness, this is--this is such an honor, I, I, I don't know what to say--"

"Say you'll come here as fast as you can?" In the background, I can hear the others cheering and high-fiving.

"Oh, boy, you _bet!_" I exclaimed, disconnecting.

And now here I am, standing before the awesome T-shaped tower--a marvellous feat of engineering, complemented by a security system that redefines "state-of-the-art". In some other, less happy timeline, I might try to hack it, or simply blow my way in. Instead, all I have to do is press my hand against a shining grid next to the doorway, triggering that happy phrase spoken in a computerized monotone: "Identity:Teen Titans:Primary Member:Confirmed:Access Granted."

And so I enter the empty ground-floor hall--only it's not empty at all. There's another Titan here--someone I didn't expect.

"Hey, Jericho, what are you doing here?"

He waves shyly. "Oops!" I blush. "I forgot you can't... um... yeah."

Jericho points up, then brings his fingers to his face in the common "telephone" symbol. "Called you... the Titans? They called you here? Why?"

"I believe I can answer that."

We both turn--it's the four main Titans, coming down a flight of stairs. Robin, of course, is the spokesman.

"You are both here for the same reason: you were invited. And you were invited because you both accepted offers of joining the team."

What?!

"You both agreed to it separately; I'm sure this is a mere formality, but now we ask: do you agree to join--together?"

I look at Robin, then at Jericho, then back at Robin. For a fleeting instant I consider hitting somebody. Or running away. Then the initial shock subsides, and I must admit that their decision to add the two of us--specifically us two--makes sense from several angles. But that still doesn't completely lessen the sting...

But while I was raised to be many things, a fool was not among them. Jericho and I exchange a glance. Then he raises his thumb.

And I say loudly and firmly: "I accept."

This is gonna so totally _rock_.


	14. Intermission 2

**_Author's note: Yes, I'm aware that Jericho and Ravager are both Slade's children in the comics. In the show, however, Jericho's parentage was never referred to (TTU continuity _is _different in many places from the DCU), and will be ignored here as well._**

*****************************  
*****************************

BEAST BOY LEFT VOID THAT TAKES TWO TO FILL

-By FRED WILLIAMS

Replacing a dead man is no easy task. In the case of the late Teen Titan Garfield "Beast Boy" Logan, two new members are required to do so.

Jump City, say hello to your new Titans! One is Jericho, the mysterious mute who participated in last year's "final stand" against the Brotherhood of Evil, as part of the crack team of operatives that was led by Beast Boy himself. The other is Ravager, a relative newcomer to the scene, whose concealed past has given rise to rumors circulating linking her to the villainous Slade!

When asked if he had any doubts about Ravager's heroic intentions, Robin, the Titans' leader, said: "Absolutely not. Both new members were chosen after a rigorous screening process and in-depth evaluation. Since her initial appearance and subsequent induction to the Teen Titan network, Ravager has proven herself time and again on missions, especially clandestine ones whose details I cannot reveal."

"Ravager is further proof that you don't have to let how you were born or how you were raised define your destiny," opined Cyborg, the team's strongman and tech genius. He declined to elaborate on his comment further.

This is the first time the Teen Titans have been a six-person team since the induction of Terra--and readers will recall how well _that _worked out. However, in the words of Starfire, the team's extraterrestrial beauty, "We felt that they both had items to bring to the [table]." And certainly, both new members seem capable of replacing Beast Boy in the Titans' combat against crime.

But the big question is: can they replace him in fans' hearts? As the attached poll graphs show, reactions are mixed, with Jumpers slightly favoring Jericho, a better-known quantity and holder of a popularity base among teen-aged girls. Only time will tell if they can reach the slain Titan's approval level.

While posing for publicity shots, both new Titans were asked if they had anything to say to the people of the city they, too, have chosen to protect with their lives, if necessary.

Jericho: "I always enjoy new challenges. I hope our affiliation with you will be advantageous for all."

Ravager: "I'm not afraid of anybody or anything. If the bad guys think they can stir up trouble here, watch out!"


	15. Arc 3: Robin

**ROBIN:**

I put down the copy of the _Jump City Post-Dispatch _and smile. Williams and his photographer, Nesbitt, had been waiting upstairs while Ravager and Jericho were reconfirming their acceptances; when we came back up he got the "hot exclusive" he'd been promised. He's not only one of the leading pro-Titans reporters in the local press--this also keeps him in my debt. Having an inside man in all the civic institutions is one of the more important lessons I learned from my mentor.

And that's when the call comes in.

"It's Kardiak," I brief the team as we rush to the garage. "It popped up at Octagon Park a few minutes ago and started rampaging. --Um, I think one of us is gonna have to fly the rest of the way."

"I volunteer," Starfire says, rising into the air.

"This what you did when that Terra girl was on the team?" asks Ravager as the rest of us pile into the T-Car.

"Oddly enough, she never felt comfortable with riding in here," Cyborg replies as he slams the pedal to the metal. "Always flew alongside on one of her rocks."

As we hurtle along, I brief the new members on what little we know of Kardiak. "Only this time, the report said it seemed to have somehow upgraded--_whoa!_"

"Well," murmurs Raven, "there's something you don't see every day."

No kidding. The Kardiak we know and hate is almost totally obscured by a network of armor, tubes and weaponry, swelling it to almost twice its old size, and all of it crackling with electric discharges.

As we jump out, I assess the situation.

"Raven, help that injured man. Jericho, get those kids behind the slide away from here. Cyborg, Ravager, attack north and south. Starfire, give me a lift." I raise my arms and watch the ground fall away beneath my feet as she grabs me.

Cy and Ravager are having a tough time advancing from opposite sides of our foe, while at the same time needing to avoid getting hit by numerous energy beams, but they provide ample distraction from Jericho, who's ushering the kids--single file, I note approvingly--out of the park. From up here, it's easy to see how it got its name.

"Move in. I'm gonna try spotting weaknesses."

Starfire obliges, dodging energy beams all the while.

That's when I hear the screams.

"Oh, _great_. It's already swallowed somebody!"

"Robin, look down!"

I look through the thing's transparent membrane--and bite my tongue.

"There's _two_ kids in there!"

"Gremplork!"

"You said it. _Change in plan, guys! _Ravager, Catapult Maneuver! Cyborg, open fire! Starfire, join him after the drop!"

Cyborg lets loose with his sonic cannon. The force of the blast, though partially deflected by Kardiak's armor, pushes it towards the park's seesaw. Then Starfire lets go, and Ravager and I hit it almost simultaneously.

Now she's flipped through the air and landing on top of the monstrosity, swords drawn, ready to cut out a rescue, and--

--we are all in battle--

--yelling--

--Cyborg knocked down by an electrical discharge--

--starbolts raining down--

--Ravager screams furiously "Oh no, you don't!"--

--Bo staff swinging--

--it sucked one of her swords in through its membrane--

--Cyborg yelling, "I _hate _mechas!"--

--avoid the energy beams--

--a flailing appendage smacks Starfire--

--Ravager jumps _into a suction tube_--

--freeze disks--

--sonic blast--

--_I won't lose another teammate again!_

Attack and attack and attack until--

_SPLOORCH!_

It's Ravager! She's carved it up like a Thanksgiving turkey from the inside and is leaping out, the children tucked under both arms!

"Get those kids to safet--"

**WHAM**

Ouch. That thing slammed me through the air--I've skidded into one of the park's eight low walls. Jericho's standing over me.

"Jus' a second," I grunt, getting to my feet. "Once the world stops spinning, I'm gonna--"

He's tugging at my sleeve. When I turn to look at him, he's pointing at the melee, then raising two fingers. "Huh?" He does it again. "Two? Two somethings?" He nods. "Two--what?" I wonder, looking at the fighting figures. Three Titans, one bad guy--two swings? Nah, that can't be right. "Two what?" I repeat, feeling exceptionally foolish. Contrary to popular opinion, I'm not some uber-gifted Boy Wonder who has an encyclopedic knowledge of everything, including sign language. If Batman were here, _he'd_ have figured it out by now. _He_ knows how to sign. I'm not even that good at Charades.

Jericho taps his upper left chest. "Heart--? Oh, Kardiak. Yeah, can't miss him. So?"

He raises two fingers again.

"Two Kardiaks? You think this is maybe a different Kardiak?"

He shakes his head and points again. Okay, so he's definitely pointing at Kardiak. Two... two...

Then it hits me.

The mechanical upgrades.

All that excess electricity.

And Jericho, adding up all the clues and getting _two_...

"Raven!" I yell, running toward where she's tending to the injured man, an off-duty security guard. "We need your help. Jericho, take over for her."

"What gives?"

"Kardiak's distracted and off balance. I want this done without giving it time to react," I explain to her as we head towards the battle. "Can you lift it up and drop it onto that water fountain?"

"What a silly question," she mutters. "Azarath... Metrion... Zinthos!"

The move goes off perfectly.

So do the results.

The monstrous amalgamation wails urgently. Then in a blinding flash of light--one becomes two.

"Raven, isolate Overload before he reconstitutes. Everybody else: time to break this heart!"

And _now_we have that old-fashioned smackdown that Beast Boy never got. Without Overload's upgrades, Kardiak--the real, lone Kardiak--falls swiftly.

"Good work, guys," I congratulate the team as STAR Labs' mop-up crew carts off the criminal pair. "You all pulled off your moves flawlessly. Except for you," I add, pointing at Ravager. "What you did was reckless, unsafe and irresponsible."

She tenses.

Then I smile. "But it worked--and I can't argue with success," I finish, holding my fist out to her.

She grins and bumps it with hers. "Awright, Ravager!" says Cyborg. "Excellent!" exclaims Starfire.

"Yeah," I say loudly for the benefit of the small crowd gathering on the sidewalk, "let's give a big hand to Ravager, who rescued those two kids, and to Jericho--some detective I am; _you're _the one who figured out Kardiak wasn't acting alone!"

The others applaud obligingly, and the people in the crowd follow suit. I bask in it. I've always thrived on applause, but in this instance it means our reorganized group is gaining acceptance, becoming legitimate in citizens' eyes.

Raven is back to kneeling by the stricken guard. "How is he?" I ask, crouching beside her. Jericho's standing behind me.

"I tried my hardest."

I check the man, who is unconscious. "Looking good. Scratched up pretty good but all the cuts are closed and--yikes!"

"What?"

"It feels like--gosh, his entire shin bone is just a mass of slivers!"

She turns her head away.

_Whoops_. "I'm not blaming you," I say, clasping her shoulder gently as a pair of medics lift him onto a stretcher. "Those beams Kardiak was shooting must have been really damaging, to have caused something like this. Like you said, you did your best. Can't ask for more than that."

"Yeah," she mutters. "My best."


	16. Arc 3: Starfire

**STARFIRE:**

It is Jericho who first noticed that something is amiss.

He approached me after we had eaten dinner (pizza again). "Starfire," he signed, "could I talk with you privately?"

"Sure," I signed back. When we first encountered Jericho, I was fascinated by the idea of a language I could not learn instantaneously via lip contact. On his first mission with us, I persuaded him to teach me this language of signs, and found to my surprise that I was a fast learner. Also, I found I enjoyed the simplicity and brevity of the language, unlike spoken English that is filled with falls of pits. Thus I am the one Jericho communicates with me the most, as our friends only had their first two lessons in signing this afternoon, in between two victorious battles and lunch.

We entered the Room of Evidence. Jericho was "silent" for a few seconds; then his hands began to move. "I just feel slightly awkward, because I'm new here and what I have to say concerns someone you know much better than me."

_Who?_ "Please keep talking."

He hesitates again. "Have you noticed anything strange about the way Raven's been acting lately?"

Oh. I give it some consideration... "Strange in what way?"

His hands waver--he is choosing his words carefully. "Maybe I'm just imagining things," he signs slowly, "but Raven seems to be much different than the other times we've met."

"How so?"

"Like... clumsiness. Rapid mood swings. She's actually reluctant when she fights. And... memory problems."

"Memory problems!"

"_Severe_ memory problems."

"I have not noticed this. Why did you?"

"Maybe... maybe it's because you're so used to her, changes--if they are gradual--might not be noticed. I have been around her less. Are you _sure_ you haven't noticed anything wrong with her?"

Now it is I who is hesitant. "Can you give me an example? For instance, a memory problem?"

"Yesterday she sat next to me on the couch and asked me a question--without even looking at me. Then she repeated it. Then she turned to me and said: 'Why don't you answer me?'"

I do not "say" anything, but I believe my face expresses myself eloquently.

"It took a minute or two before she appeared to realize, or rather remember, her error."

"This makes no sense. How come I've never noticed this when we've talked--"

"Which brings us to our next subject. How much have you two been talking?"

"Since when?"

"Since the funeral."

I think it over and am forced to admit: "Much less than we used to."

"I thought as much. I've observed that she now tends to spend her time alone, or at least not conversing with anybody."

"I _have_ seen she's changed slightly--she's been much moodier lately--but I thought I had an explanation."

"What?"

"I have no proof, but... I believe that she had on Beast Boy what you would call, a crush. So when he died..."

He's shaking his head. "Even if it's true, that wouldn't account for what I've seen."

"True. But... what does it all mean?"

He looks somber. "I've got a theory," he says, "but I'll need your help to test it."

"How?"

He tells me.

"Oh," I gulp. But if Raven may be in danger, I must forego caution. "I accept."

"Don't worry. It doesn't hurt."

Then he takes possession of my body.

It feels as though I am encased in, the cotton; and when my body moves without myself ordering it to do so, it is most disconcerting.

My mouth opens and my ears hear the words: "If you don't want to go through with this--and I would understand why--you can 'cast me out' right now."

To outback now would unfitting of a warrior such as myself. _Let us do it_, I cry, even though he cannot hear me.

So he/I/we go back to the living room.

The test is utterly simple. When Raven is touching someone else, or the vice versa, she has a limited telepathic contact with them.

So, when my hand grabs Raven's shoulder without her sensing that Jericho is controlling it--indeed, it takes her a second to notice she has been touched at all--and then my other hand manages to slap her face lightly without her "predicting" and avoiding it, it is definite proof for me that something is indeed very wrong with her.

Raven is stunned for a moment; then she lashes out with a Dark Ether beam that is surprisingly easily avoided. If our friends' attentions were not being paid to us before, they assuredly are now.

"Yo! What's goin' on over here?" Cyborg demands.

Jericho ignores him. Instead, he directs my eyes to her gem belt. "That's a pretty bauble," I/we/he says to Raven, who is looking confused rather than upset--and for the first time I notice the presence of one gem too many on it, not completely identical to the others. "Mind if I borrow it?"

"No y--" But before she can finish, my arm snakes out and removes the nonmatching gem. Instantly, there appear on Raven several other different rings and bracelets--hidden from sight by the gem's presence.

"Well," Jericho says, "that _would_ do the trick."

Raven starts to run away.

"Stop her!"

Our friends, heeding the order, apprehend Raven. As if to deliberately furnish further proof of her unwellness, she does not even try to use her powers--if they are hers--to fight, or simply escape through the walls or floor.

"Hold her down," my voice orders grimly as I land in front of her. Then my green eyes--the perfect cover for Jericho's possession--meet Raven's violet ones.

There is a moment of confusion.

Then Jericho--in his own body--is flung by an unseen force all the way to the viewing windows, which fortunately do not break.

"Raven, why have you been deceiving us?" I cry out, feeling blessed relief at being in the control of my body again. "What did you do to Jericho? What is the purpose of these... items?"

"Let me play detective," growls Robin, "and salvage some of my pride in that area of expertise." He begins pulling the trinkets off. "These things are to duplicate, or closely imitate, most or some of your powers--" the removal of an emerald ring apparently dissolves a noise suppression spell, as the rest of the items begin clanking and jangling-- "and the reason you need to use them is your powers are still being blocked by what also rejected Jericho--_this_," he finishes, holding aloft a hand with one ring still on it: the Ring of Azar.

"But _why_, Raven?" I exclaim, hurt. "Why did you not tell us?" I had thought, after our conversation on the morning we had chosen our new team mates, that she had managed to remove it.

"I d-don't know," she stammers--and Raven _never_ stammers. "My thoughts--they've been s-so unclear..." To my shock, she is beginning to cry.

"That ring's giving you trouble?" Ravager. "I could try cutting it off."

"I don't think that's a good--"

As soon as her blade touches the ring, she too is hurled through the air; Jericho, having just struggled to his feet, is forced to dodge out of the way.

"Nothing I've tried works!" Raven wails. "And I think it's driving me mad!"

"There has to be a logical solution to this," insists Robin.

_Logical_...

I think the aloud. "Raven, you told me that your body had rejected previous versions of the ring when Trigon was alive, and it was only after he was destroyed that you were able to put it on. The purpose of the ring is to negate your powers, which are in your words 'dark from the source, and--'" It strikes me. "'--_and yet a part of me_'," I finish.

"Antibodies!" exclaims Cyborg. "Antibodies and white blood cells. The ring's attackin' the vestiges of Trigon within Raven--and since they're a part of her, she's also bein' affected."

"But how does that help me?"

Jericho understands. I translate for him: "Just because your powers _come_from Trigon does not mean that they _belong_ to him. They are a part of you because they are _your_ powers."

"You can't let where you came from decide who you are." Ravager, who speaks from experience. "It's all in your head. That ring's going after Trigon--but there ain't no Trigon in you, really."

I grasp the Ring of Azar. "You can do it, Raven!" I urge her as Robin takes hold of her arm. "I know you can! _Who are you?_"

Her eyes are now tinged with the red, and not because she has been crying. "I am Raven, daughter of Trigon the Terrible!"

And the ring blazes with a heat beyond human endurance, the skin on her finger puckering, blistering--

"No! Wrong! Wrong! Who are you?"

"I am Raven, daughter of Angela Roth!"

And the heat is gone, but so too is the spark in her eyes--

"_Wrong!_ I _demand_ that you tell me. Who. Are. _You?!_"

The gleam of life returns--

"_I... am... RAVEN!_"

And now the ring moves by the tiniest of fractions.

"Good, good! Who controls your destiny?"

"_I choose_ my destiny!"

"_Who_ makes your choices?"

"My choices are my own to make!"

It moves some more, shooting off sparks, a shimmering in the air--

"And to _whom_ do your _powers_ belong??"

"My powers belong to _me_, the powers of _Raven_!"

I pull with all my might and it continues to budge, millimeter by agonizing millimeter--then in a flash, it heats up to a point where even I am discomfited--white light surrounding us, the source of which I cannot ascertain--is it possible that even now, she still harbors doubts--?

"_No!_" And her eyes now shine completely white--the light around us twisting into a familiar shape, with horns and sharp teeth-- "You are not a part of me! _You are not a part of me!_"

_--light--_

When I pick up myself and blink the sight back into my eyes, I see that everyone else has been similarly tossed about--and the ring is lying empty on the floor.

"Raven! You did it!"

But--something is wrong. She does not respond, curling up on the floor into a ball...

Jericho and I reach her at the same time. "Psychic trauma," he signs. "I'm going in."

And the next thing I know, his eyes lock with hers. And this time, he is not rejected.


	17. Arc 3: Jericho

**JERICHO:**

Falling...

It's always the same when I possess somebody. A sensation of falling, through a black and endless void. How long it lasts depends on the intelligence of the person and the richness of their psyche, as does the degree of control I subsequently gain over them.

I fall for what seems to be an incredibly long time.

Naturally, all this happens on a plane separate from what average "three-dimensional" people consider reality. When I gain control of Raven's body movements, no appreciable amount of "real" time has passed since my merging.

"Get... into... isolation," I grunt. The amount of control I have over a body also depends on the person's natural current state. A paraplegic wouldn't walk; a sleeping or catatonic person wouldn't do anything. Even those three words would have required a major effort by Raven acting alone.

I shut the eyelids--the less sensory perception the body receives, the better for what I need to do--as she/I/we are lifted up, presumably to be conveyed to to the isolation chamber the Titans built for Raven a long time ago. (I doubt Ravager knows of its existence; I do because I looked over the Tower's blueprints when I joined the team. She's a reacter, acting according to the situation at hand. I'm more of a cerebral type--having your voice box shot out can do that.) No sights, no sounds, nothing to taste or smell.

Just what I need.

For all I know, we may already be in the room. It doesn't matter to me, as I am immersed in Raven's mind, a googolplex of googolplexes, universe filled with grains sand each grain another universe //

/_thoughts emotions memories instincts_ //

/Not what I need Need Raven Find Raven //

/a sun-blasted plain beneath a starry sky. meaning = who knows? description=/=use //

/_Need Raven Find Raven_ //

/wow ive seen a nobel winners mind that was lesscomplicated=this //

/tick tock tick tock //

/_towering cliffs of black. i = below&above them. cliffs=/=black, cliffs = covered w/ black birds_ //

/Flying //

/castle before me, big [beyonddescription]. raven in there? //

/guarded by [x]. i can still get past tho. //

/_necessary? raven in there?_ //

/this place = best guarded location in mind. what=inside? //

/scanning

{_**n**_}

not raven. ravens minds sanctum sanctorum. innermost hopes&desires fondest memories&dreams //

/_more raven than raven herself. entry = unthinkable._ //

/Leave //

/black birds //

/looks like azarath. raven would not be here, raven=/=belong here. //

/_need raven find raven_ //

/Where is she Logic Raven lost in own mind Conclusion Look where she would be lost //

/not logical :: best approximation when dealing w/ mindscape //

/a maze. of course. //

/black birds circling overhead //

/Enter //

/_am being followed. who? the emoticlones. emoticlones = lost too?_ //

/more coming out of passageways & falling in step behind me //

/_not lost. guarding. me?_ //

/green emoticlone blocking path hand up palm out //

/"Please," I say.

We stay like this for a few tense seconds. Off all Raven's Emoticlones, this is the one I'd second-least like to face in a fight, and I'm not all that good at fighting in the first place.

Then she (it?) lowers her hand and stands aside, silent like the others.

In front of me is the center of the maze--and Raven lying on the ground, covered in blood.

I am stunned, but remember that in the mindscape things aren't always what they seem. "You're not dead," I state, trying hard to keep my voice level.

"Yes," she replies, to my relief. "But she is." The scene shimmers and changes: Raven, whole and healthy, cradling a body in her arms. The red Emoticlone--the one I'd _least_ like to fight--is dead. At least, I hope it (she?) is. To be both alive and looking like that would be unspeakably agonizing.

"Dead," she says quietly. "Trigon's last remnant in me. Rage. The source of my powers. Gone."

"You're not always enraged when you use your powers."

"'Use' and 'source' are two different things. And without one, I can't do the other."

We both fall silent.

"An entire emotion, lost, cut off from you. You have no idea what it's like." She looks up at me. "What it feels like."

"True," I admit, although I have gained insight into her initial appearance--a literal symbol of having part of her ripped out. "But you had no choice. It was either that or descend into madness."

Abruptly, she disappears.

"Raven!"

"Right behind you." I turn around, and indeed it's so.

"Come, come, now," I needle her. "A fine mind such as yours using such a pathetically simple metaphor for 'running away from the problem'? You can do better than that."

Before I finish the sentence, we are both dressed in sports clothes and jogging down a track in a stadium that is both Olympic-sized and infinite; I do not even break stride.

"Shucks, I'm blushing," she says sarcastically.

"No, really, I mean it." And I tell her about my earlier comparison between her and the Nobel winner*. While doing so, I look back and see we are being paced by her Emoticlones, dressed like us and stony-faced, bearing the casket of Red Raven.

"And what made you suspect my beautiful mind was on the fritz?" Raven asks. She's still not blushing; what she [i]has[/i] done is pick up speed.

"Our first battle together, against Kardiak and Overload," I admit. "The man you were tending to only had a broken leg before your minsitrations; but your screwing up wasn't half as suspicious as not owning up to it."

"That darn Healing Amulet of Myrctos," she mutters. "Never could get it to work properly, but it was all I had."

Our farcical procession continues.

******************************  
* - A very long story, the details of which I have chosen not to reveal until the deaths of the parties concerned.  
******************************

"One the ring had managed to destroy your Rage," I forge ahead, "the effect on your psyche would have been permanent. It was already buckling and straining. Imagine the state it would've reached by the end." I snap my fingers. "Just like that."

We cross the finish line in a dead heat; the stands are simultaneously empty and filled with a cheering multitude that, for some reason, I can't bring myself to look at.

As we slow to a halt, Raven turns to me. "And it was because I... inflicted this... upon myself, the damage was reversible?"

I nod.

She says nothing, but the approaching Emoticlones and their grisly cargo turn intangible, pass right through us, and soon disappear altogether.

_She's accepted the past,_ I realize, _but isn't ready yet to leave and face the future._ "Shall we walk?"

"Let's," she agrees; and in the blink of an eye we are standing in a vast field of waist-high corn, wearing farm attire.

She's deliberately trying to disorient me, get me to leave. I am determined not to.

We set out toward the only visible landmark, a distant red barn, as I marshal my thoughts. An appeal to her emotions, no matter how much she's attached to them, would in all likeliness not work; reasoning and logic must carry the day. "We've established that the reason your mind was saved--fixed, as it were--was the fact that you personally cast out your Rage. But... what if that was also reversed?"

"Hogwash," she scoffs. "Even I--and false modesty aside, I was potentially the most powerful being on the planet--even I could never raise the dead."

"But we're not talking about a person here. We're talking about an emotion--an abstract concept. Or, in your case, not so abstract."

"You think that makes it easier?"

"It might." I resume cogitating, watching some of the ever-present birds wheeling across the sky above.

A few minutes later, by unspoken agreement we sit down to rest atop one of the high points of the field's topography. "Anyway, it wouldn't be worth it," she announces.

"Come again?"

"Even if I could recreate my Rage, what use would it be?"

"Hey, hey--_you're_ the one who doesn't want to come out because she misses her emotion so much."

"It was more than just an emotion, you twit." She punches my shoulder. "Like I told you before, it was also the source of my power. Without my Rage, my _real_ Rage, I'm nothing."

"Hmm." An opening to an emotional appeal if I ever heard one--but I still don't think that's the correct way to go about this. Instead, adding intuition to logic: "What if that, too, were reverted?"

She laughs hollowly. "Right. I suppose now you'll be wanting me to resurrect Trigon into the bargain?"

"Not at all." I gather my train of thought. "I don't think your Rage was the source of your power at all."

She snorts. "All right then, Mr. Smartypants, so what was it?"

"A _channel_for the true source. Listen, that was an impressive display you made, casting out the last remnants of Trigon within you--but they weren't. It made, of course, no difference to the ring, which was only concerned with scouring your mind; but Trigon will be a part of you until you die. Or, rather, you will be 'partly Trigon'."

Her eyes widen. "You mean..."

"That's right. No matter where you go and what you do, you'll always be half-demon. So, in a way, Trigon's heritage _is_ the source of your power. But not how you thought. It wasn't his presence in your mind." I tap her above the heart. "It was right here."

"Impossible."

"Do you remember what happened right before you got the ring off?"

Now she's the disconcerted one. "Why... no, I don't. I mean, obviously I cast out my Rage, but beyond that... The last thing I remember clearly is Ravager saying 'you can't let where you come from define who you are.'"

"You declared that your powers belonged to you, and not to Trigon. We were speaking about it in terms of ownership--thinking that that's what the whole issue was about--but now I think your subconscious took over and spoke literally."

"Impossible," she repeats flatly.

"Really? Look around you."

She does, and notices the same thing I did a few minutes ago.

The entire cornfield is carpeted with black birds, all of them looking straight at her.

"I think your subconscious is trying to tell you something."

This is definitely the most interesting time I've ever had inside someone else's mind.

The birds part before us until the foot of the hillock. Then out of the ground rises who else but Red Raven, bloodied and battered and missing a few body parts, but still alive after all.

"Azar protect us!" Raven gasps, her breath coming in short spurts, as the apparition begins to lurch slowly toward us, or, rather, her. "No! No! Get away from me! You are _evil!_"

And Red Raven falters and drops to her knees...

I grab Raven by the shoulders. "Listen closely. Listen _closely_. You thought your Rage was the source of your powers, but you were wrong. You thought you had eliminated your Rage, but obviously you were wrong about that too. Listen closely! You _thought_that your Rage was Trigon's presence within you. But what if that's not actually so? What if what you thought your Rage was, what you had eliminated, was in fact nothing but a symbol, a _representation_?" I shake her. "Then this is nothing but an illusion--and it's fighting against it!" By now we're both in our regular outfits again; the corn has disappeared and the skies have blackened, but the birds still surround us, now whirling in circles. "Let it in--let it back in!" I call, as both Raven and Red Raven rise up into the center of the maelstrom.

Beams of power connect the two, enveloping them in light--both arch their back and cry out--the birds around them speed up until they form a solid mass of black--

And Raven, alone, falls back down.

I move to catch her--_oomph_. "You okay?" I ask, concerned.

"I can feel it." She opens her eyes and looks at me. "I can feel my rage...I can feel my power!" She grins ecstatically.

"Great!" I say happily, hugging her and standing her on the ground. "Now you're gonna come out, right?"

With a giant _CLANG_, we are immediately encased within a metal safe.

My patience runs out.

"That's _it!_" I holler. "Fine, _be_ that way--but you're leaving even if I have to _drag_ you out!" And I conjure a blowtorch into my hand.

Her eyes widen. "How did you do that?"

"You're talking to a bit of an expert on the mindscape here," I reply as mask, gloves and apron materialize on me. "I've got several other tricks up my sleeve I can produce in here." I tap a wall meaningfully. "Well?"

She glares defiantly for a few seconds, then breaks down. "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm just... lost. I've been lost here the whole time... Lost within my own mind, and no idea how to get out. It's awful."

I smile as my equipment fades away. "Hey," I say lightly, taking her hand and pushing the (unlocked) door open, "perhaps I can help show you the way."

Then we are out and rising //

/ rising //

/ rising //

/ rising //

/ _rising_ //

/ _rising_ //

/ _RISING_

and then I open her body's eyes and exit onto the floor of the Isolation Room.

"Jericho!" Robin's voice crackles through a wall-mounted speaker. "Were you successful?"

"I'm fine," Raven says, turning to wave at our teammates in the monitoring booth; I hear them cheer. "We're both fine."

"Great!" he enthuses. "We'll be right down."

"Thank you, Jericho," Raven says to me.

No problem, I reply--but no sound comes out of my mouth.

_Damn it._

She looks at me, then reaches out and places her hand on my cheek. Her eyes grow distant... I wonder what she sees?

Then she lets go and spells out: T-H-N-A-K Y-O-U J-E-R-I-H-O.

"N-O P-R-O-B-L-E-M," I sign back.

She smiles.

Then our friends pour into the room, and it's party time.


	18. Arc 3: Raven

**RAVEN:**

"Hey, Cyborg."

"Hey, Raven. Pass me that wrench, willya?"

Three weeks have passed since life got back to normal ("normal", of course, being a subjective term). I've just walked into our garage, where Cyborg's hard at work, lying on his back underneath the T-Car and doing something esoteric to its innards.

"Sure." I float the tool over to him. "But can't you make one pop out of your hand?"

"Sometimes I get tired of the Inspector Gadget routine, an' decide to do things the old-fashioned way." He rolls out and stands up. "Right, that's those shock absorbers done with," he says happily, wiping his hands on a rag. "You wanna talk to me about somethin'?"

"As a matter of fact, yes." I pause. "How would you feel about trying to bring Beast Boy back to life?"

He stares. "Well, now," he says slowly, "that's a pretty _big_ somethin'."

I wait.

"Hell," he mutters, "I miss the little grass stain more than anybody. But what you're talking about, it'd have ramifications. We went through the whole emotional roller coaster--buried him, mourned him. You want we shoulda gone through all that fer nothing? Plus, we got Jericho and Ravager on the team now, things have changed. Life's moved on. _We've_ moved on." He glances sideways at me. "Or have you?"

"What you say is true," I admit. "This idea isn't based on cool reasoning--which is why I'm not taking it to the team as a whole. Robin would shoot it down, and Jericho and Ravager would be upset, or embarrassed."

"Then why bring it up?"

"Because," I confess, "I feel that I owe it to him. When that... that _fiend_ shot him, I was the only one who could have done anything. I tried to stop the bullets with my Dark Ether. But I missed. It happened so fast..."

"Nobody blames you for it, Raven. Neither should you. It wasn't your fault."

"But that's just it. Suppose I'd been fast enough? That I could have saved Beast Boy? What if... it _wasn't his time_?"

He scratches his head. "So... this is totally from the gut, divorced from all consequences?"

"You got it."

And I can tell by his face that I've won him over. "How we gonna do it?"

"I was hoping you'd ask that." I take out the box I've been carrying and open it. What appears to be a cloud of dust spills out, climbing and coalescing into the shape of a young teenage girl with bushy blonde-brown hair and inquisitive blue eyes.

"I'd like you to meet Secret."

_WHUMP!_

I spin around--it's Ravager! How--? "What are you doing here?" I demand, glancing up--the only way she could have fallen there like that is if she'd been hanging from one of the ceiling beams.

"Decided to practice my shadowing technique and followed you down here," she says, getting up and feeling her behind gingerly. "Your friend's sudden appearance made me lose my concentration and I slipped." Her eyes widen. "Hey--where'd she go??"

Indeed, Secret has disppeared. "She was here just a moment ago!" Cyborg exclaims. "Does she turn invisible?"

"Not exactly," I sigh. "Come on out, Secret. C'mon--don't be scared. Ravager's a friend."

Slowly, dust motes gather from around the room and rearrange into Secret's form. "Sorry," she mumbles, reddening slightly. "She just startled me."

"How much did you overhear?" Cyborg asks Ravager.

"Everything."

Uh-boy. Ravager knows I want to do something that in all likelihood could end up with her removal from the team. I'll bet she was already miffed when we added Jericho along with her without her knowledge; how will she react to _this_ perceived slap in the face?

"And I have just one question," she continues.

"Yeah?" I ask warily.

"Can I come too?"

I blink. "Wait a minute. You _want_ to come?"

"Sure," she replies. "Raising the dead? Sounds like an adventure. I'm all for that."

"But--your place on the team--"

She waves a hand dismissively. "Burn that bridge when we come to it."

"Oh!" Secret giggles. "A mixed metaphor! That's funny!"

Ravager frowns. "Right," she drawls. "Come to that, just who are _you_?"

"My name is Secret," she replies, smiling at her own inadvertent pun, "and I am the current Warder."

"The Warder...?" Cyborg muses, rubbing his chin. Abruptly, he seems to recollect what it means; his eye widens and he takes an unconscious step backward. "Wow! They weren't kidding when they said that big trouble comes in little packages," he states, sizing her up. She's only in her early teens, and looks younger.

"I think I'm missing something," Ravager says. "You're a what?"

"She is _the_ Warder," I emphasize, "and there is only ever one. Her job--her _duty_--is to stand guard over the entrance to the realm of death itself."

Ravager's eyes bug out. "_Whoa_," she breathes. "And... are you dead?"

Secret shuffles her feet. "Kinda," she mumbles, eyes downcast. "Technically."

_As good an answer as any,_I reflect, looking back at our first meeting. Ring of Azar gone, I can remember now why I took that three-month vacation: having participated in so many fights for so long, my soul had been due a little R & R. I'd decided that the best way to do it was a pilgrimage to key spots of magic around the globe. It was refreshing and fascinating; Ireland alone took up a full third of the journey...

_I was a week away from home, just outside Happy Harbor, when I met the girl._

_The sound of someone crying and an unfamiliar but powerful disturbance in my psychic field caught my attention as I walked along a dirt road. Curious, I followed both into the nearby woods, where I found a little brown-haired girl sobbing fit to burst._

_When she heard me approaching, she looked up wildly. "Do what you want with me."_

_"I'm sorry?"_

_"Do what you want," she whimpered. "I can't run anymore. I just can't..."_

_"Hey, sshh, sshh, it's all right, I'm not going to hurt you--"_

_Her laugh was bitter, tinged with hysteria--she was obviously exhausted and frightened. "Suuure you won't! That's what_ they _always say!"_

_I spun around, scanning the perimeter. "Someone's after you? Who?"_

_Little by little, I coaxed the whole story out of her. The nefarious brother... the murder... the shocked awakening in the morgue. From there, capture and experimentation by a nameless, faceless organization with an unknown agenda. Then, only two days previous, escape..._

_"But now I can't run any longer," she said, shivering under my cloak. Most of those two days had been spent on the run, constantly evading her pursuers, grappling with powers she was still unfamiliar with. By then she was tired, hungry, and cold, totally resigned to her fate._

_"Maybe you don't have to," I said. "Maybe I can help you."_

_"Look," she said awkwardly, "it's really nice that you care and all, but believe me, you don't know what you'd be up against--you should just leave and forget you saw me. You wouldn't stand a chance."_

_"Oh, I wouldn't say that," I smiled. I pointed at a tree. "See that tree?"_

_"Yeah."_

_I stood up. "Azarath... Metrion... Zinthos!"_

_While the dust from the explosion cleared, the girl stared at me. "You're a superhero?"_

_"Incognito, at the moment." While I hadn't bothered disguising my face, it was amazing how many people, especially men, were fooled by just a change in clothing. "You ever hear of the Teen Titans?"_

_She shook her head, still goggle-eyed._

_"We're based in Jump City, out on the West Coast." I proceeded to give her an abridged rundown of the team and its history._

_"Wow," she breathed when I was finished. "And... d'you think I could become a Titan, too?"_

_"You're definitely a promising candidate," I admitted, standing up again. I was about to pull her to her feet when we both heard the sound._

_"Oh, no," she whispered._

_Then a dozen armed men in gray uniforms and gas masks burst into the clearing._

_Battle instincts sprang to the surface. It's likely the first ones never knew what hit them. The rest probably had the luxury of that, if not a different outcome. Within one minute, the only goon still standing was, in fact, dangling from my Dark Ether's grip._

_"C'mon! Explode him!" the girl yelled._

_Instead, I knocked him into oblivion against a tree trunk. "I'm one of the good guys," I admonished her. "We don't go around killing people--or any other living thing, for that matter."_

_"...Oh."_

_I didn't need to be a telepath to sense the guilt churning her innards. "Out with it," I sighed. "What's you do?"_

_"When I was escaping the compound... two guards... I just turned a corner, and--there they were..."_

_"And you killed them?"_

_"Not actually--but they're both dead."_

_I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. "What do you mean?"_

_"I just... disposed of them. I kinda took them inside me and--sent them away."_

_My face paled. "Oh, Azar," I muttered. "This is_ seriously _major."_

_"What? What is it?" she asked worriedly._

_I took a deep breath. "What you just said, combined with what you told me about yourself before--I strongly suspect that you have become the Warder."_

_She looked confused. "The 'Water'?"_

_"No," I corrected her, "Warder. W-A-R-D-E-R." I then told her what I knew of the Warder and the duties being one entailed._

_When I was finished, she seemed to have shrunk in on herself. "And all that's_ my _responsibility?" she whispered._

_It_ was _rather daunting, especially for one so young. "Count your blessings," I pointed out. "If the Lords of Light hadn't decided to appoint you, you'd be dead now."_

_"Maybe that'd be preferable," she mumbled unhappily._

_"Well, personally, I've got nothing against dying--but I also plan to get in as much living as I can before it happens." She brightened a little at the thought. "Now, what do you say we get the heck out of Dodge?"_

_By nightfall, we had made our way to a special Titans "safe house" in the Adirondacks, the girl had settled on the code-name "Secret", and I'd arranged a meeting for her with the Spectre--a similarly death-centered entity--to give her trade advice, as it were._

Since then, we'd corresponded semi-regularly, cementing our friendship; and when I contacted her yesterday, requesting the aid of her unique powers, she'd agreed immediately.

Secret, meanwhile, has related a highly condensed version of this story to Cyborg and Ravager.

"Fascinating," states Ravager, who's waving one of her swords around--a sure sign of boredom for her. "Now can we have less of the talk, more of the rescuing-dead-teammates-from-the-afterlife-adventurousness?"

I sigh. While I truly believe that Ravager is in no danger of reverting from her positive ideals, her personality can be quite grating. _Much like Beast Boy..._ scratch that thought. "Very well. Secret, if you would please?"

"Sure." She grabs her cloak, pulling it around her; then she opens it--and instead of her body, a swirling portal appears within. "Whenever you guys are ready."

Cyborg's first. "Ready or not, B.B., here I come!" he hollers, taking a running leap inside.

Ravager gulps audibly.

"What's the matter?" snickers Secret, completely aware of who has the upper hand. "Afraid of the dark?"

"Like hell," she retorts. "Fear is my middle name. 'Course, my first name is No." Satisfied at having gotten the last word in, she enters as well.

Now it's just me. "Just a reminder," Secret says as I approach, "however long you're in There, the same amount of time will have passed here."

"I understand."

"And Raven?" Her eyes lock with mine. "Good luck."

"Thanks."

Then I step inside.


	19. Arc 3: Cyborg

**CYBORG:**

"AaaAAaaaAAaAaaaAAhh!"

That's me doing the screaming. The reason being, I'm currently in free-fall through an infinite void. That's what my sensors say. At least, sometimes. More often now they don't function at all, or say things like "Out of Cheese Error: Redo From Start." Welcome to the netherworld.

"Yiiiiiiiiiiiii!"

That ain't me. I look up--it's Ravager, closing in fast. That means either she's falling faster than I am, or--a happy thought--that I'm slowing down.

"_Skreeee!_"

And _that_ ain't either of us. I look around and--uh oh. Closing in fast from all sides--freaky little flying demon things. Just when you think it can't get worse...

"Rav!" I holler. "We got company!"

"I see 'em!" she yells back. "Lemme at 'em!"

So we both commence with the punching and the kicking and the stabbing and the blasting. During this we slowly touch bottom on what feels like rocks and sand. Since we're dealing with the undead here, we're both free to cut loose. It's a mighty dull battle.

Mostly because they _just keep coming_.

"Raven!" Ravager yells. I look up again--sure enough, our little expedition's third member is making her entrance. "A little help here?!"

"You're going about it all wrong!" she calls back down. "You need to get them to leave you alone--they'll disperse if exposed to light!"

Light? I switch my shoulder beacon on, but-- "I don't think mine's enough, Rae!"

"I think I can do a bit better than that."

Then Raven raises her hand and a blinding halo of light surrounds it.

Within minutes, all that's left of the demons are the echoes of their piercing screams.

"Yo!" I exclaim, surprised. "Since when can you do that?"

"Since I purged myself of Trigon's influence," she grins. "Now I can pick what color my powers display."

"So how come I haven't seen you do anything but black since then?" Ravager asks, sheathing her swords.

"You think a criminal would be quite so intimidated if he was facing someone with bright-light powers--like Starfire?" she asks rhetorically. "Anyway, I like black."

"Uh-huh," I say. "So, any more surprises we can expect here?"

"Well, the light ought to keep most of the netherworld denizens awa--" She stops abruptly. "Heads up," she warns.

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure--"

That's when the big black snaky things jump us. In the flurry of battle, I notice they son't seem to have any distinguishing features other than being really long and really intent on trying to wrap themselves around our heads.

"They're Fear Fungi!" Raven shouts as she blasts one in two.

"Great! What does that mean?"

Suddenly, they're gone! Wait--they're not gone--they're streaming into Ravager's head like a magician's ribbon trick in reverse!

Ravager screams and screams--

And then she begins laughing. A lot. Which is even scarier.

"Fools! I shall destroy you all!"

That can't be good.

It's proven when she draws a sword and tries to stab me.

"Yeow!" I cry, out of reflex rather than pain--but she's struck perilously close to one of my armor's 35 weak spots. Luck? Or something else?

Raven renders the point moot by grabbing me and levitating us both out of reach.

"Okay, Raven, talk to me!" I yell up as Ravager snarls and waves her swords below us. "Fear Fungi--what, why, how?"

"They prey on life force," she answers. "They take over a body through a mental weak spot and turn that person into that which he or she fears most in themselves. After a while the host become just another undead creature and, eventually, a Fear Fungus itself. They also grant their hosts certain superhuman powers."

"Like what?"

Ravager, who's been jumping up and down on the ground, takes a leap that's a bit larger than normal.

"Flight, for instance."

"Haul tail!"

"Already on it."

A bizarre aerial chase ensues, Ravager back to laughing madly.

"So how do we defeat these things, Rae?"

"Uh..."

"You don't know?!" I bellow, aghast.

"Hang on, I'm working on it!" she answers crossly. "I'm allowed to forget things once a while, you know."

"Not in the middle of battle fifty feet up in the air, you're not--"

"Got it!" she announces triumphantly. "Cyborg, get ready, I'm gonna sling you at her--we need her immobilized for this to work."

"Can do." Wonder what she has in mind?

Raven's aim is true, and I smack straight into Ravager. Wrapping my arms around her torso, we enter free-fall; I try to let my metal body absorb most of the impact when we hit the ground--I want her body harmed as little as possible.

"I know you're in there, Ravager!" I tell her as she struggles in my grip. "Just hang on! We're gonna get you back."

She cackles. "I'll kill you!" she screams. "I'll all of the Teen Titans! Take my rightful place! Power! Hate--maim--kill--_kill!_"

Ominous.

"Cyborg! Let go and one side!"

That's Raven, streaking over the ground and closing in fast. I hurl myself out of the way at the last second and watch Raven plow into--no, wait. _Through_ Ravager.

Time seems to slow, and for one awful moment I think Raven's stuck halfway through--and then she's halting behind her, grasping the writhing Fungi in her hands. "Goodbye and good riddance," she declares, blasting them to shreds.

Ravager promptly drops to all fours and throws up. "Easy, now," I grunt, patting her gingerly on the back. "Deep breaths. In, out, in, out..."

A few minutes later, she regains her composure--well, most of it. "What the hell is going on?" she demands, shooting daggers (with her eyes, so far) at Raven. "I never pegged Beast Boy as the type to wind up Down Below, but I'm damned if I'm gonna take one one more step--"

"You think this is Hell?" Raven sounds almost amused. "Goodness, no! This is merely the antechamber _between_ life and the afterlife, a sort of Limbo, if you will. The creatures we've seen so far are the most minor of Hell's demons--when they're bored, they congregate here, something no heavenly creature would do."

The most "minor" of demons?? Jeez, I'm gonna be watching my step a bit more carefully from now on!

"So, to paraphrase someone famous, 'when do the good things frickin' _start_?'" She's still peeved, and no wonder; those Fear Fungi brought to the surface the old Ravager, Slade-Girl v.1.0, the one she's worked so hard to suppress. Knowing how easily that deeply buried persona can spring to the fore must be pretty upsetting, to say the least...

Raven concentrates, then turns and points at a rise in the terrain. "This way. Come on."

Five minutes later, we're standing at the top of the ridge and looking at--well, it's a sight too amazing for description. The best I can come up with is "a vast circle of bright light", but that doesn't even come _close_ to doing justice to its magnitude.

"One of us has to go in there," Raven says.

"Um, Raven? My sensors indicate the temperature of that thing to be over 9,000 degrees centigrade."

"Really? What do they say now?"

I recheck. "Er... 70,000 below zero. Or--" The readings flicker-- "'Waffle Pancreas Noob.'"

The girls snicker.

"This is _very_ frustrating!" I groan. "If I can't trust my own sensors, what can I rely on to make the right choices?"

"Simple," Raven says. "Have a little faith and follow your heart."

Oh joy. Azarathian Zen.

"You're obviously the most qualified of us to deal with this sort of thing," points out Ravager, who's still looking a bit rattled. "Why don't you go in?"

"Can't," Raven replies. "I need to stay on this end and maintain a link with whoever enters, otherwise they won't be coming out."

Ravager and I eye each other. I'm about to suggest we flip a coin or something when she says, "I think you should do it, Cyborg--you were his best friend. I think I'm more suited to guarding Raven in case any more of those creatures try to attack."

"Can't argue with that," I admit. "Raven, you ready?"

She sends out a beam of light that connects us. "Whenever you are."

So I walk down into--

I blink.

I appear to be standing in the middle of a large park, the natural kind--grass, trees, flowers, cliffs and rivers. Kinda reminds me of Yellowstone--visited it waaay back. I breathe in a lungful of air--tastes funny. But I don't need my sensors to tell me: this is a place with 0% pollutants.

Then I look down--

I'm human. I'm whole--not a trace of metal or circuitry. For one mad moment I consider ditching the mission and staying here for good...

As if in response to my thoughts, a tug at the psychic link around my waist brings me back to Earth (metaphorically, at least). Beast Boy. Where is he?

I hear voices.

I follow those voices for a few minutes. Then I come around a tree and there they are: a pale bald dude in red tights, a fair-haired man, woman and teenager--apparently a family--and an older black lady.

Then I do a double-take and my jaw drops.

"M-mom?"

The five of them stop their conversation and turn to regard me. "Hello, Victor," my mother replies, smiling gently.

I'm in shock. Suddenly, it's hard to breathe. "Mom--Mom, I--oh God--Mom, there's so much I want to tell you--I--"

She raises her hand to cut me off. "I know, Victor," she says softly. "But perhaps some other time."

"Say _what?!_"

"I'm not the one you came here to seek, so I can't be engaged in conversation. The rules are quite clear on this."

"Stuff the rules!" I exclaim loudly, then flush, remembering just Who might be listening. _Deep breaths, relax, you can work this out..._ "Can you at least help me find, uh, the one I seek?"

"Oh, that's easy," she says happily. "He's quite close at hand."

For some reason this seems to amuse the youngest member of the group, who chuckles audibly.

I turn to snap at him, then stop short. _That smile..._ why, I'd know that smile anywhere, even in the afterlife.

"...Beast Boy?"

"Hey, Cyborg!" he grins. "Lookin' good, man!"

"You ain't doin' so bad yourself!" I scoop him up in a bear hug.

"We'll give you two your privacy," smiles the blond man, whom I now know to be Mr. Logan, Gar's dad. The four of them begin walking off.

I can't help myself. "Mom--" my voice cracks-- "wait."

She stops, but doesn't turn around.

_What to say, what to say..._ "How can I ever speak with you again?"

Now she does turn, her smile radiant. "Why, Victor," she chides me gently, "you don't need to be here in order for me to hear you."

And then Beast Boy and I are alone.

"Your mom's a real nice soul," he comments.

I break myself out of my reverie. "Yes. Yes, she is."

"How come I haven't seen your father around here?"

He misconstrues my silence. "Oh, shoot--you think he ended up in--"

"Nah," I sigh. "I'm sorry but I lied to you before--not both my parents are dead."

He cocks his head inquisitively. "I'm guessing that thereby hangs a tale."

"And so it does; but it's not one that'll be told today." I pause. "I think you know why I'm here."

"I think I do," he admits. "You want me to come Back."

He toys idly with one of the branches of a nearby willow tree.

_What will he answer me?_


	20. Arc 3: Robin II

**ROBIN:**

"Don't move!"

"Okay, okay, I know this looks bad--"

"I said don't move!"

Who is this girl? How'd she get inside the Tower? What does she have to do with our three missing teammates?

"If you'd just let me _explain_--"

"Hands where I can see 'em! And close up that portal!" I growl, motioning with my birdarang at the unnerving hole where her body should be.

"I can't. Raven and the others are inside."

_What?!_ "Don't you dare close that portal!"

She rolls her eyes, which then widen. "I'd advise you to step back now."

"Is that a threat--"

_OOF!_

At least three people just flew out of the portal and right into into me. I pick myself up--headcount--there's Raven, Cyborg, Ravager--

And that's it. They're alone, and seemingly unharmed.

Starfire and Jericho come rushing in. "What has happened?" Star asks.

"Beats me. All I know is we've got an intruder. How'd you get in without setting off the alarms?"

"Those alarms can only detect _living_ things," Raven points out, getting up.

Wait, then this girl is... I stare. "Maybe you'd better tell me the whole story from the beginning."

And they do.

When they finish (after several "you went _where??_"s and "you did _what???_"s), my head is swimming. "So... Beast Boy chose to remain there?"

"That he did," Cyborg says quietly. "Not that I blame him. It's a beautiful place, and he's at peace, with the people he loves."

"Family over friends..." I mutter dully.

Starfire puts her hand on mine. "Do not be like that, Robin. Beast Boy is happy where he is; we should be happy on his behalf here."

"Yeah... I guess you're right." I glance at Cy. "And that's all you talked about?"

"Weelll, not _everything_."

A few minutes later, after seeing off Raven's friend, we're in a small storeroom branching off from the Evidence Room. I've been temporarily keeping here Beast Boy's possessions that weren't mentioned in his will, not yet sure what to do with them.

"We all made out our wills more than a year ago," Cyborg is saying as he rummages through the stuff. "But a week before he died, BB decided to additionally make a personal 'goodbye gift'. He never got around to telling anyone about it, or leaving clues to its location."

"I went through this stuff pretty thoroughly," I say. "I don't know how I could've missed it."

"Hah, yeah, well, where _he_ hid it... If I could just _find_ the darn thing..." He pauses before a heavy metal containment unit. "This was Beast Boy's?"

"No," I admit, "but what I put inside it is. The contents are quite... volatile."

He grins widely. "Ah," he says. "If it's what I think it is..."

He opens it, and an unholy stench fills the air.

"Oh, gross!" exclaims Ravager. "What _is_ that??"

"The safest place in the world to hide something," Cyborg announces, holding his nose with one hand while picking up the object with the other. "Beast Boy's toenail collection."

"Beast Boy collected _toenail clippings?_" Behind Ravager, Jericho makes the universal sign for "being sick".

"And you _kept_ it?" Raven adds, both hands covering her mouth.

"I was planning to blow it up," I confess, "but I'm afraid there are some strict laws regarding unauthorized nuclear-level detonations."

"Just as well," says Cyborg, who's now examining the box, tapping the sides. Then, he dumps the noxious contents into the metal container and takes out--a false bottom!

"What is inside?" Starfire demands.

"Can we take this outside first?" Raven, who's paler than usual. "I don't know how much more of this smell I can take."

"Good point," I agree quickly. "In fact, let's get into the open--some fresh air would do all of us good."

We've just exited the elevator on the ground floor when the call comes in over my T-Communicator.

It's another bank robbery. Single culprit, riding a motorbike. Armed with a sawed-off shotgun.

"I'll handle it," Ravager says firmly. "One guy? Easy peasy."

"Not without backup, you're not," I shoot back. That call stirred up some painful memories...

"Wouldn't dream of it," she replies cheerfully. "How about it, Jericho?"

He grins and gives a thumbs-up.

"Great. Mind if I borrow your Birdmobile?"

"R-Cycle," I correct automatically, but they're already zipping away down the corridor to the garage. Boy, that sounded stupid.

Soon we're sitting on an outcropping of rocks at the water's edge. "All right," Raven says, "what is it?"

So Cyborg takes out the contents of the box. Envelopes.

There's five envelopes, each one addressed in Beast Boy's messy scrawl. As Cyborg hands them out, I ask, "Who's the last one for?"

Cyborg looks at it impassively. "Terra."

"He never did give up on her, did he?" Raven murmurs.

"Put it aside for now," I say. He does, and I put a rock on it to keep it in place. "We'll figure out what to do with it afterwards."

We then open the envelopes.

I look at mine and smile; it's a poem, in Beast Boy's unique style. I read it and look at the others.

Cyborg's holding two pieces of paper. "World's #1 Human," he reads off the green one. Then, consulting instructions written on the white paper, he folds it in various ways. I think we all realize what it will be before he finishes: an origami turtle.

He tilts his head skyward. "Thanks, dude," he whispers.

Starfire's also received two papers. One's stiff and covered with fancy gold lettering. "This is to certify," she reads, her voice quivering, "that Princess Koriand'r of Tamaran, also known as Starfire, is a bona fide citizen of Earth. Signed... 'The Milnip Wusserloop'."

A single tear courses down her cheek.

I break the silence. "What's the other one say?"

She looks at it. "It is--private. I do not think I should want to tell you now."

Hm. Maybe I'll ask her again some other time.

"What is written on yours, Robin?"

I read the poem out loud to the others. That leaves just Raven. We look at her expectantly.

She raises her hand, and the sun's dying rays shine on her parting gift.

"The lucky penny!" Cyborg exclaims.

"The very same one?" asks Starfire.

Raven shrugs. "Possibly. Who can tell the difference?" She pauses. "But it's also more than that. Somehow--probably with the aid of one of our magically-gifted allies--he grafted to it a piece of his essence. Now, in a small way, he'll always be with us." She raises the gemstone from her cloak's brooch and slips the penny under it; then she re-fastens it, and for a moment it glows green. "And with me."


	21. Epilogue

**_EPILOGUE:_**

Later that night, Robin came walking back down to the beach, where he found one of his teammates standing with his back to the Tower, head tilted to the stars and whispering softly. "Cy?"

He turned. "Hey, Robin. 'Sup?"

"What are you doing out here?"

"Oh, just... havin' a little conversation." He smiled briefly. "You?"

"Agh, I forgot the envelope addressed to Terra from earlier somewhere around here. Help me look for it?"

"Sure."

But after a thorough search of the area, neither could find it.

"You _sure_ you put a rock on top of it, man?" Cyborg asked for the umpteenth time.

"Yes, I'm sure," Robin answered again.

Cyborg sighed. "Well, it's definitely not here anymore."

"I guess you're right."

They both stood and gazed at the lights of the city opposite them.

"Maybe the wind blew it away anyway," Cyborg mused. "Or maybe a seagull took it, or something..."

"Maybe," Robin admitted.

And he looked down and reread the scrap of doggerel he was still carrying around.

_"'Batman and Robin' without the Bat_

_Is still so fully awesome that_

_Both coasts had to be witness_

_To your crime-fighting prowess._

_"For as a leader, you're second to none._

_If I could pick anybody, you'd still be the one_

_I'd choose as a guide through the endless fight_

_Against all evil for the forces of right._

_"And when all is said and done,_

_I just want you to know: it's been fun."_

--Garfield Logan, **Teen Titan**


	22. Commentary & Annotations

**_COMMENTARY & ANNOTATIONS_**

Most of this fanfiction—and everything after Arc 2—was not plotted ahead of time. Random scenes and lines bounced around in my head until I decided to weave them into a coherent storyline. The rest was literally made up as I went along, with minimal revision.

I tried to keep characterization consistent in internal as well as spoken narration. My favorite way this shows is how Robin thinks of the other Titans as his "teammates", while Starfire considers them her "friends".

**Chapter 1**

_"'They shot up a bank teller.'"_ Although not stated in the story, the bank teller lives.

_"Kane Street"_ as in Bob.

_"I hate guns. Been that way for a while now."_ Batman has a strict no-guns law.

_"Criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot"_ -- Bruce Wayne

_"Felled by a set of bird-bolas."_ Bolas are that weapon that's a string with two weights at the ends that wraps around things.

_"And Beast Boy falls."_ This was actually the very first scene I imagined for the story. All the rest grew from there. (I had, in fact, initially pictured it in comic book format; the words appeared in separate boxes. However, I quickly concluded that a fanfic was a much easier option.)

_"'Wally! Stat!'"_ Kid Flash's name is Wally West.

**Chapter 2**

_"DeGama Avenue"_ as in explorer Vasco da Gama. No known connection to Teen Titans.

_"For a billionth of a second, I halt my momentum so as to not slice Beast Boy in half."_ The idea of a superhero catching a shooting victim at superspeed comes from _Adventures of Superman_ #631 (2004), where Superman grabs the wounded Lois. She, however, survives.

**Chapter 3**

_"'B-bless y-you--'"_ Line stolen from _Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_ movie.

_"The parts of my soul-self I have conjured."_ These appear in the form of the birds from inside Raven's mind in _Nevermore_.

_"Dark Ether"_ is a term I personally coined for the black substance Raven can conjure.

_"Haney Avenue"_ also as in Bob.

_"'I, uh, always felt partial to "Rachel".'"_ Raven's alter ego in the comic books is Rachel Roth.

_"Other memories come flooding in."_ In order: _Go!_, _Only Human_, _Betrothed_, _Masks_, _Apprentice Pts. I & II_, the Season 2 arc, _The End Pt. I_, _Car Trouble_, _Teen Titans Go!_ issue #44.

**Chapter 4**

_"'If you're near a church, now would be a good time to go inside.'"_ That's a rather clumsy way of telling them to pray…

_"'That altercation you had following that business with Trigon.'"_ Happened in DCU canon, way back in _Tales of the New Teen Titans_ #65 (1986).

**Chapter 5**

_"'After that business with my Emoticlones running loose…'"_ Happened in _TTG!_ #42.

_"'The Ring of Azar I wore during our battle with Trigon'"_ appeared during _The End Pts. II & III_.

_"She looks stunned."_ This is, of course, a loose translation…

_"'Dr. Jorge Sanchez.'"_ Foreshadowing of a sort. Dr. Sanchez officially pronounced Superman dead when resuscitation attempts failed after his battle with Doomsday in _Superman_ #75 (1992).

**Chapter 6**

_"The cherished myth shattered when I was eight years old."_ That when Robin's parents, the Flying Graysons, were killed.

**Chapter 7**

_"Vegrandis Dei"_ is bad Latin for "Small Gods". The name of the cemetery, its subsequent description, and even the name of its caretaker are all cheerfully stolen from Terry Pratchett's novel "Night Watch". If you haven't read it yet, shame on you.

_"'Mayor Antonio Renozzi.'"_ Renozzi is Hizzoner ("His Honor", a mayoral nickname) spelled backwards.

_"'A fellow Tamaranean, possibly an ambassador of some sort.'"_ This is Galfore, who became Grand Ruler of Tamaran in _Betrothed_.

**Chapter 8**

_"'I used to love the spotlight. Literally...'"_ Robin, of course, used to be a circus acrobat.

_"Some guy with glasses and a goatee."_ This is cameoist extraordinaire Irineo Maramba, a _Teen Titans_ storyboard artist.

_"'He was born just as human as you and me.'"_ For more on Beast Boy's origin, read _TTG!_ #45.

_"'Fighting for truth, justice--and, occasionally, the last slice of pizza.'"_ Reference to an early marketing phrase for the show.

**Chapter 9**

_"Matt Logan, Beast Boy's long-lost cousin, up from LA."_ Matt helped Beast Boy form a short-lived Teen Titans team (Titans LA) in _Titans Secret Files_ #2 (2000). The implication is that they met during the "trouble in Hollywood".

_"'Instead, I decided to write a poem.'"_ A lot of the inspiration for this poem came from Jimmy Stewart's ode to his late dog Beau (available on YouTube, FYI).

_"'He was the glue that kept us loose.'"_ I'm particularly fond of this line. Just thought I'd mention that.

**Chapter 10**

_"I figured the funeral required a touch of the military."_ The inspiration for the three-volley salute came from the moving _West Wing_ episode _"In Excelsis Deo"_.

**Chapter 11**

_"The wake of Beast Boy is winding down."_ I know, this isn't what a wake traditionally consists of. I couldn't find a better word.

_"'Uncalled-for, Toni.'"_ Argent's name is Toni Morrison.

_"His breath _reeks_ of alcohol!"_ Evidently Robin's decided to drown his sorrows…

**Chapter 12**

_"The sake and vodka two of our foreign teammates brought to last night's wake."_ Bushido brought sake from Japan, Red Star brought vodka from Russia. Multiculturalism FTW!

_"I blink. Wait a minute--did _I_ just say that?"_ Raven's ring-induced OOCness begins manifesting.

_"The sudden silence is punctuated by a loud '_BWA-HA-HA-HAA!_'"_ Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction too when the idea popped into my head. :-)

_"I can tell who those words were directed at."_ Raven, of course, has had some daddy issues of her own…

**Chapter 13**

Ravager made her _TTG!_ debut in issue #49. To those of you who were looking forward to Jericho-Ravager interaction based on the fact that they share a father, and were disappointed, I say that I chose them through the exact same process the Titans did in-story, and figured that such interaction would distract from the main plot.

_"The San Julio branch of Bells, Cargo."_ TTU analogue of the Wells, Fargo bank.

_"'Aren't you supposed to switch hands now or something?'"_ Apparently, both Ravager and Super Saber have watched _The Princess Bride_…

**Chapter 14**

_"Jericho: 'I always enjoy new challenges…'"_ He is "speaking", of course, via sign language.

**Chapter 15**

_"Cyborg yelling, 'I _hate_ mechas!'--"_ Ohh, the irony.

**Chapter 16**

_"'Sure,' I signed back."_ Note how Starfire's signing (from here on) comes out as "normal" English.

_"'I have no proof, but... I believe that she had on Beast Boy what you would call, a crush.'"_ I am an anti-BBxRae shipper. This was intended as a jab, but didn't come out very well.

**Chapter 17**

_"The isolation chamber the Titans built for Raven a long time ago."_ In _The End Pt. I_, in fact.

_"I'm more of a cerebral type--having your voice box shot out can do that."_ Gruesome--and part of DCU (and my personal TTU) canon.

_"universe filled with grains sand each grain another universe"_ The visuality of Raven's mindscape was not inspired by the episode _Nevermore_, but by the animated movie _Sinbad: Legend of the Sevens Seas_ (specifically the Tartarus scene).

_"Of all Raven's Emoticlones, this is the one I'd second-least like to face in a fight."_ Green is the manifestation of Raven's bravery.

_"I marshal my thoughts."_ Earlier, I had hit massive writer's block; when it ended, I entered such a writing frenzy that I realized I was in danger of completely contradicting earlier facts set out in the story. It was at this point that I actually had to stop and plot out on a separate sheet of paper how to tie it all together--the only time I ever did this--coming up with the solution once again "on the fly", making it as much of a surprise to me as the eventual reader.

**Chapter 18**

_"Three weeks have passed since life got back to normal."_ Because of the shift in both time and subject, it may be more accurate to split Arc 3 into two mini-arcs… but I digress.

_"Little by little, I coaxed the whole story out of her."_ Secret's full origin appeared in _Young Justice_ #42 (2002). She did not appear in TTU canon.

_"Instead of her body, a swirling portal appears within."_ The idea of using Secret's portal to try and reach the afterlife is taken from _Young Justice_ #48 (2002).

_"'What's the matter… Afraid of the dark?'"_ This ought to sound familiar to _TT_ fans. It's lifted from _Nevermore_.

**Chapter 19**

_"Out of Cheese Error: Redo From Start."_ A computer error message from Terry Pratchett's Discworld.

_"'So, to paraphrase someone famous, "when do the good things frickin' _start_?"'"_ "When Do the Good Things Start?" is the title of a self-help book by Dr. Abraham Twerski, and a song title from _Snoopy: The Musical_. It stuck in my head for some reason.

_"I appear to be standing in the middle of a large park."_ The main inspiration for Heaven's appearance comes from _Green Arrow_ #7 (2001).

_"A pale bald dude in red tights."_ This is DCU superhero Deadman.

_"'Hello, Victor.'"_ Cyborg's name is Victor Stone.

_"'I'm guessing that thereby hangs a tale.'"_ And how. Cyborg had a falling-out with his father after the accident that created him, since it was partly his fault. I'm treating his self-told origin from _TTG!_ #45 as a white lie.

**Chapter 20**

_"An origami turtle."_ Reference to the episode Overdrive.

_"'Signed... "The Milnip Wusserloop".'"_ Nickname given to Beast Boy by Starfire at the end of Forces of Nature.

_"'The lucky penny'"_ is from The End Pt. I.

**Epilogue**

_"'Maybe,' Robin admitted."_ Is she? Did she? Didn't she? You decide!

* * *

Thank you so much for reading this far…


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